Speculum Fragilis
by Angelfirenze
Summary: Harry looked at his brother and knew they were thinking the same thing. We could have been each other's friends... AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One. No pairings, as of yet.
1. What Kind of Family Is This, Cohen?

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer**: Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea. Lyrics from various bands I enjoy.

**Summary:** Harry looked at his brother and knew they were thinking the same thing. _We could have been each other's friends..._

**Timeline:**The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Hermione Granger or Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood (I haven't decided), Seth Cohen/Anna Stern.

**Notes:** Seth, Summer, Ryan and Marissa, under my own personal observation, would have all made better friends. So they'll be staying just that.

Part I: What Kind of Family Is This, Cohen?

_When you've finally thrown up your hands...Poured your heart out, yet nothing stands...It seems our efforts are wasted...But yet it hasn't been in vain..._

Harry Potter sat tensely in the brightly lit kitchen of this house, his _brother's_, and stared nervously at his plate. He wasn't particularly hungry, but Mr. and Mrs. Cohen--Sandy and Kirsten, they insisted--had gone through rather a lot of trouble to buy food he recognized--and for breakfast, nonetheless, as he was thoroughly unaccustomed to the nine hour time difference between Surrey, Hogsmeade, and this place...Orange County. Across from the table, he heard Seth (his _twin brother_) stifle himself saying something and was unable to keep from looking up. Their eyes met for half a second before both shooting back down toward their plates. Next to Harry, Ryan seemed as uncomfortable as they were, which he was strangely grateful for. He knew that Ryan only had around a week and a half more of experience living in this house, and in the pool house, besides, which was in itself something to get used to besides the sheer size of...his new home...Harry tried not to look as nervous as he felt, poking at his kippers and eggs with a fork.

At the head and foot of the table, Sandy and Kirsten traded glances before Kirsten finally cleared her throat and stood, "Well, since no one seems to be hungry right now, Harry, why don't you get some rest."

"Yeah," Sandy agreed readily, standing as well and taking Harry's plate from him. "You look like you're about to fall asleep in your seat. Until we get your room situation settled, do you mind sharing with Seth?"

Harry's head snapped up, a bashful refusal on his lips as a blush spread up his face. "Oh--no, that--that's not necessary. I can sleep on a--"

"Couch?" Ryan asked, then, chuckling with an irony that let Harry know he'd been through the same thing. "They'd probably get that Snape guy to place you in that bind-thing he was talking about."

Sandy came over and gently placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, starting to propel him toward the kitchen doorway. "Don't think we haven't thought about it. Seth, you wanna show Harry your room?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Seth jumped up, rushing forward and spreading his arms out. He turned and held up two fingers in front of his face in a mock-contemplating expression. "Don't believe what Mom tells you--this is not a wildlife refuge..."

And with that Seth opened his bedroom door and Harry felt his mouth drop open. This room alone had to be bigger, probably, than all the Dursleys' bedrooms combined and filled with more things than he'd ever owned in his life. And books that actually looked as though they'd been repeatedly read. He never realized that was an odd thought.

"Lie down," Sandy said quietly, prodding Harry toward Seth's bed. "You've gotta keep those bandages as stationary as possible."

"Crap," Seth said, then, snapping his fingers. "I guess that means no prostrating ourselves at Luke's feet today, huh, Ryan?"

"Crap," Ryan agreed, following Seth and Harry into their room before sitting down and settling himself against the wall. Harry was still busy staring at all the posters and stuff that Seth had tacked up in various places. He felt Sandy's hands on his shoulders again, pushing him down onto the bed before removing his shoes.

"I think you have a ringing endorsement here," Sandy told Seth, who rolled his eyes and went to his dresser where his mother had placed the pajama pants and t-shirt she'd bought Harry earlier that day. He tossed them onto the bed before turning around and pretending to be interested in the view of the ocean outside his window.

"I think now would be the operative time to change," Ryan suggested, getting back up and following Sandy back out. Harry moved almost on autopilot, carefully removing the new clothes Kirsten had helped him pick out earlier that day and folding them before placing them in his trunk. Hedwig's perch was next to the window and she and Seth watched each other, blipping out of view as Harry pulled the t-shirt on before slipping on the loose drawstring pants. Everything was crisp, new--they still had the bloody creases in them from their packaging! He had to struggle to believe they were really his to keep.

"So...our...aunt and uncle," Seth said quietly, his tone darkening as he turned back around to see Harry staring at his clothes like they'd disappear any moment. He hadn't gotten that look off his face since before they even landed back in Newport with Professor Dumbledore bringing Harry, himself. It made Seth want to punch something and he resorted to his time-honored habit of babbling. "They don't really like us, do they? I mean, with like the magic and everything? Our bio-mom and dad being a witch and wizard? And us?" Seth looked down at his own hands, trying to imagine doing focused magic the way he'd seen Professors Dumbledore and Snape do when they'd been in Dumbledore's office.

Harry snorted a bit before glancing at his twin and sitting down on the bed. Seth folded his arms and watched as Harry picked up his wand and started twirling it. "Vernon and Petunia Dursley. Mum's sister and brother-in-law. They're afraid of me," he agreed quietly. "They think I'll hex them. They know about the Statute of Secrecy but it hasn't stopped them from doing anything." Harry sighed, dropped his wand back onto the bed, and ran both hands over his forehead as though he were trying to wipe his scar off. "They certainly don't like to tell me things if they can help it. I guess with the Secret-Keeping, they'd forgotten about you, but even if they had known...I never even knew I had a brother and still wouldn't if it had been up to them."

Seth frowned, running a hand through his equally dark but curly hair, "Mom and Dad told me when I was eight. They told me they'd tried to find you, but I guess now we know why they couldn't. I just want to know why Dumbledore split us up."

Harry looked at his brother and knew they were thinking the same thing. _We could have been each other's friends..._

"Maybe he thought you were safer away from me or something. Voldemort wasn't trying to kill you, just me." Harry started to bend forward, heaviness starting to pull at him and Seth walked over and took his wand from him, placing it on the left-hand night table before pushing Harry back into a supine position.

"We don't know that. He probably just didn't get around to it. But, anyway, it's like my--our dad told you earlier--you're not some Boy Who Lived here. You're Harry. Harry...Potter-Cohen. I guess we'll figure out the name thing later because there's no way Mom and Dad won't let you and Ryan both stay. But the point is, um..._Tabula Rasa_ and stuff like that. Hell, around here, you, me, and Ryan are basically invisible." The thought didn't bring him much comfort, but the look of relief that settled on Harry's face made him wonder if he shouldn't be, as well.

Seth dismissed the thought, though, and hesitated for a moment before removing his shoes and sitting down on his bed, picking up his headphones and watching as Harry fell asleep again.

_...Dreams are all you have, dreams have held you back--Dreamers never live, only dream of them..._

***

**Twenty-eight hours previous**

Harry sat in Professor Dumbledore's office, his head leaning over the back of the chair he sat in. Beside him, Professor Snape sat watching him, but Harry did his level best to ignore the greasy git's presence. He wasn't certain why he was back here so soon. Dumbledore had only told him of the blood wards the previous week. He certainly hadn't expected Snape to be the one standing over him when he'd woken up from falling down the stairs after Uncle Vernon pushed him. He'd woken up in the Hospital Wing here at Hogwarts and had a very hazy memory of Professor Snape being something resembling..._nice_...or at least not cruel. Then again, he'd been drugged to the gills with Madam Pomfrey's potions and may have hallucinated the whole thing...except hadn't Professor Snape specifically said he _wasn't_ a hallucination?

Harry clenched his eyes shut and slowly lifted his head back into a vertical position. The door was opening and Professor Dumbledore walked calmly through it. Both he and Professor Snape stood automatically to recognize his presence, but Professor Dumbledore smiled benignly at both, shaking his head.

"My dear Harry, Severus...please sit--Harry, you have had quite the injury done far too recently to do anything other than convalesce. Please...sit back down and rest."

Harry sighed and sank gratefully back into his chair, too tired to care about the fact that Professor Snape's eyes were on him now. Too tired to do much of anything.

"I shall make this concise and to the point," Professor Dumbledore told him quietly, aware of the way Harry's endurance was waning. "We are here to read the finer points of the last will and testament of one Sirius Black."

Harry felt his body tense painfully and held in a gasp, but Professor Dumbledore's eyes met his and Harry could feel the concern practically drowning them. "Harry, make no mistake--if it were not for the dire importance of this document, I would have you in bed straightaway. I am inclined to do so in any case, but--as I said, your protection and future...as well as your past depend upon what I am about to tell you."

"You mean about my parents," Harry intoned, looking wearily up into Dumbledore's face. He could see Dumbledore's face creasing with more concern and looked away. He didn't want to see it, didn't want to feel anything right now. Didn't want to think. It was easier when he couldn't see them.

"I mean about your parents, your godfather, and your twin brother."

Harry couldn't stop himself from turning back to goggle at the headmaster now and could tell Snape, himself, was doing the same. "I...I have a brother?"

Dumbledore nodded, pulling out a roll of parchment and beginning to read from it. The gist of it, as Harry understood, was that Sirius had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper after all, but not for the reason everyone believed. Lily and James Potter had both insisted on naming different Secret-Keepers for each of their sons and having them perform Unbreakable Vows so that in the event of their deaths, whomever's Secret Keeper was still living was still protected.

"Your Secret-Keeper is Professor Snape--" and here Harry's entire body whipped painfully to where Professor Snape sat next to him, his entire persona a blaring yellow sign that said 'fuck you for breathing'. "And your brother, Seth's Secret Keeper was Sirius. As it is, as your godfather has now been taken from the mortal coil, your brother's life is now in quite as much danger as yours. As for his location, after your parents' deaths, it fell to me to arrange your futures as I have told you. I have contacts in America who helped place Seth with a family in California where he currently lives. As it is my understanding of your family's..." and here Harry felt as though the temperature dropped significantly. "Disdain, to say the least, for your presence in their household has made them completely intolerable toward you or your brother, should he be brought to live here in England, it has been decided that it is infinitely preferable for you to go to Newport--ah, the town in which your brother's family lives--and continue to live there. As your brother was with you at the time of your mother's murder, he too is imbued with the very same protection she gave you when she shielded you from Lord Voldemort. Your relation to Seth creates the blood bond necessary for the protection you live under to continue and his adoptive parents, from what I have been told, have tried to find you before, but were unsuccessful."

"Because of the Secret-Keeping," Harry whispered, disbelief and awe warring for dominance in his voice.

Dumbledore nodded, "As it is, the contents of the will Sirius left upon his death certifies not only for yourself--and Seth, as well--to inherit Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, but that he is Seth's Secret Keeper, thus we were finally able to contact his family a few hours prior to your arrival. They were given time to consider the matter and, if they felt the need, to make any preparations they wished before coming here. I suggest that you go upstairs and rest before they arrive, even if you are unable to sleep. While they shall be traveling by Portkey, I will be using the Floo Network temporarily hooked up to their fireplace with you to spare as few jolts to your internal organs as possible. I must ask, Harry, as does Madam Pomfrey, that you rest as much as possible. As it is, Professor Snape will be charged with making certain you do not descend into irreparable distress for the time being. I have his word that he will not harm you, but he has promised Madam Pomfrey that he _will_ put you in a Full-Body Bind if you attempt anything even approaching strenuous for the foreseeable future."

Harry glanced over at Professor Snape, shame and guilt flooding his entire being. He recalled, as he often had over the past several weeks, his father's own actions toward Professor Snape in their adolescence and the idea that Professor Snape, though he surely loathed Harry (and rightly so, Harry believed), would give his life to protect him...he felt a dark flush coming to warm his face and wished desperately for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow him. As a matter of course, this did not happen and Harry was forced to very slowly get up and follow Professor Snape through warm, tickling flames to the Hospital Wing he'd been in so many times before.

He was ultimately surprised and infinitely grateful to have fallen asleep no sooner than his head touched the pillow.

_...You gave me a life that's not so easy to live and then you sent me on my way..._

...TBC...


	2. The Kind Where Mothers and Sons

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer**: Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea. Right, and the t-shirt described is for sale at Hot Topic. I do want it, myself.

**Summary:** "I have Harry's permission to allow all of you whom he will soon be living with to witness his past, as he has seen it, with the admitted bias of feelings and perspective attached."

**Fandoms:** AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One.

**Timeline:** The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Hermione Granger or Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood (I haven't decided), Seth Cohen/Anna Stern.

**Notes:** Seth, Summer, Ryan and Marissa, under my own personal observation, would have all made better friends. So they'll be staying just that.

Part II: The Kind Where Mothers and Sons Wear Clothes

_...Its not something you learn its just something you do...And sometimes I wonder whether my other half is you..._

**Twenty-four hours previous**

Harry looked up slowly, wincing as Snape's eyes roved over his mind and tried not to let Snape's eyes meet his. He wasn't a good Occlumens at the best of times and right now he felt as though his abdomen had been cleaved open and sewn shut with twine and packing tape. Sighing, he let his eyes continue upward until they landed on the ceiling with it's low light coming in from the dusky sky outside.

"The headmaster asked that I summon you back to his office, Potter," Snape said in that same strangely soft voice Harry had sworn he'd hallucinated earlier. "Your brother and his family have arrived from America."

At those words, Harry's heart jumped into his throat and he gasped violently. Wordlessly, Snape swept over to where he sat and forced Harry to look directly into his eyes. "Calm yourself, Potter," he said, his cold hands on Harry's shoulders, chilling him through the cotton Hospital Wing issue pajamas he was so accustomed to wearing. "They mean you no harm. In any case, the headmaster and deputy headmistress are there and perfectly capable of Stunning them should the highly unlikely need arise. Now."

And Snape backed away, then, taking a pinch of Floo Powder from the mantle not far from Harry's bed. "If you can stand unassisted, we will Floo there and everything will be arranged. Before you ask, no, you will not be going back to Surrey."

Harry let out the breath he'd been holding and nodded, random flashes of broken toys and the inside of his cupboard...the bang of Uncle Vernon's fist on the door and his back...Dudley's feet stamping up and down the stairs, screaming for him to wake up...wiping blood from his nose, a cut under his eye...

He shook his head slightly, clearing his mind of those thoughts and walking slowly to the fireplace where Professor Snape stood waiting. Snape was watching him, still, and Harry was extremely careful to keep his eyes on the floor beneath them.

He saw the flash of powder hitting flame, heard Snape's voice call out 'The Headmaster's office', but felt far away from everything and anything around him. His feet felt heavy and he flinched slightly as Professor Snape's hand wrapped around his arm, pulling him forward into the flames. They began to spin but before the dizziness could overtake him, they fell forward out of the headmaster's own fireplace, Professor Snape's hand steadying Harry's body before it could collide with the floor.

Harry looked up, straightening his glasses, and immediately gasped again as he came face to face with a boy slightly taller than he with curly dark brown hair, wearing light brown cargo shorts and a light blue t-shirt bearing the words 'Bright Eyes' in small lettering surrounded by an illustration resembling one of those Ouija boards Dudley had insisted he'd wanted, but which had been one of the few times the Dursleys had refused their son anything. The boy's eyes were the same light brown Harry immediately recognized from Snape's memory he'd glimpsed in the Pensieve earlier that year, but his hair was curly unlike Harry's own. Behind him, another boy with dark blond hair and narrow eyes that vaguely resembled Cho Chang's sat in extra chairs around the headmaster's desk. He was next to a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, but she didn't resemble the other boy at all. Rounding them out was a man with straight black hair closer to Harry's own but with the heaviest set of eyebrows Harry had ever seen.

"Harry, you look much better already," Professor Dumbledore said quietly, but Harry said nothing, unable to move for the overwhelming sense of familiarity he felt radiating from the boy before him. He was the only one of the strangers standing and his mouth was hanging slightly open, his own eyes locked on Harry's countenance.

"I see you both have some memory of one another," Professor Dumbledore said, this time his voice definitely lightened with something Harry couldn't identify. "Harry, Seth, you..." the headmaster trailed off, but Harry didn't look at him. He took a breath and lifted a hand, watching the other boy do the same. Both looked at their raised hands, noting the similar tapered fingertips, the ways their fingers bent in a double-jointed fashion at the second joint all except for the littlest which stayed at the mercy of its partners.

"I'm Harry," he heard himself say, his voice slightly hoarse with disuse and some embarrassment. "Harry James Potter."

The other boy nodded jerkily, his eyes raking over the top of Harry's head before a breath blew out of his mouth and he said, "Seth Ezekiel Cohen because, apparently, simply being called 'Seth' just wasn't Jewish enough. No, they--I'll shut up now."

And Harry found himself smiling before he realized it and the other boy smiled back. Seth's head jerked around to face the others and Harry saw they were smiling, though the blond boy's smile was less genuine than either of the adults. He looked as nervous as Harry, himself, felt. "Um. My--our mom and dad, Kirsten and Sanford Cohen--he hates his name--likes to be called 'Sandy'...now if only he hated those eyebrows..."

"I told you they're contagious, Seth," the man--Sanford said lightly and Seth pretended to become anxious, feeling his own eyebrows.

"It's not nice to threaten people with those caterpillars, Dad," Seth teased, sending his father an insincere glare. "Anyway, while I'm being unjustly threatened with out of control upper-facial axillary growth, apparently you and me--we're brothers and--hey, it's the jackpot for me this week because I've gotten a twin _and_ Ryan. Awesomeness."

"Cue Seth mentioning my record," the blond boy--Ryan muttered but Seth waved a hand dismissively.

"Your lawyer is present. Confidentiality and all that crap. Who needs Law & Order when I have Dad?"

Ryan sighed and walked forward himself to shake Harry's hand. "Ryan Atwood."

"See," Seth said in an exasperated voice, his hands flying up above his head. "I go through all this embarrassment and the needless monologue and you just walk up--'Hi'--or not even that--just 'Ryan Atwood', King of Sentence-Long Looks--would someone _please_ shut me up?"

Harry grinned again, biting his lip as Sandy walked forward and clapped his left hand over Seth's mouth before reaching out with his right and shaking Harry's hand. "You'll probably get used to that," Mr. Cohen said lightly, before seemingly giving it some thought. "Or maybe you'll want to tape his mouth shut before long--who knows? So, Harry, who's the charmingly surly gentleman who so carefully manhandled you into our presence?"

Harry glanced back at an obviously irritated Professor Snape's face and said, "Professor Severus Snape. He's my Potions instructor--he doesn't like me or anyone much. But anyway, that's Professor Dumbledore behind the desk--he's the headmaster here and next to him is Professor McGonagall. She's the Deputy Headmaster--I mean Mistress, sorry, professor--and my Transfiguration instructor and..." he petered off, a flush coming to color his face. "You have no idea what I'm on about at all, do you?"

"We're used to it," Mr. Cohen said in that same easy-going tone. Harry couldn't place his accent, but he could tell that he was from a different place than the others. "So, Harry, Professor Dumbledore tells us you go to this school and that circumstances you've fallen into leave you in need of...well, anything, really."

Harry gaped, glancing quickly at Professor Dumbledore, who nodded. "You told them," he said quietly, the dull flush coming back to his face and flowing down into his neck.

"I did not, I assure you, Harry, tell them anything that did not directly involve Seth--that is, how you both came to be in your present--and previous--homes. The rest, however little or however much to tell them, I leave entirely to you. It is your right, after all."

Harry felt the flush that had filled him barely moments before now receding steadily and he found himself turning away, running his hands through his hair. He clenched his eyes shut, knowing Professor Snape's eyes were on him.

"Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said quietly and Harry's head snapped up. "You realize the headmaster is still in possession of a certain magical object that would aid you in your fruitless endeavor to reveal that which you find yourself unable to say?"

Harry felt his eyes widening, relief flooding him, and turned back toward the headmaster, his mouth open to ask. Professor Dumbledore, however, had beaten him to the quick and was currently placing the Pensieve on his desk. He looked up at Harry, a serious look on his face, and silently beckoned him forth. Harry slowly advanced mindful both of his fear and the lingering pain of his still-healing injuries. Once before the headmaster, thoughts of his life flashing behind his eyes, he felt the tip of Dumbledore's wand touch his scalp, the memories trailing like hairs caught in static at the end of the wand, falling into the Pensieve and becoming smoky once more. Several times this was done until Dumbledore lowered his wand and nodded, allowing Harry to sit in his own chair before circling the desk to face the Cohens.

"I have Harry's permission to allow all of you whom he will soon be living with to witness his past, as he has seen it, with the admitted bias of feelings and perspective attached." Here, Professor Dumbledore looked squarely at Seth. "You may find the earliest of these memories to be quite familiar yourself, Seth. Whatever emotions or actions you may feel or undertake, their presence is understandable entirely."

He frowned slightly, picking up a corked bottle from his desk with a wax seal and breaking it open. "This is a Calming Draught procured from Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing Harry has just returned from. It is my sincerest advice that you take this before entering Harry's memories, and that all of you keep in mind that while everything you are seeing _did indeed_ happen, none of it will be able to touch you. Memories are only tangible in their mental and emotional form. You will not be harmed physically."

"Physically?" Mr. Cohen said sharply, glancing at Harry, who shrank back before he could stop himself. Mr. Cohen's face hardened. "The people Harry was with before when we couldn't find him--you said they were his aunt and uncle."

Professor Dumbledore nodded, taking several deep breaths before once again offering the now-open Calming Draught to Seth. "I advise you to take this as soon as you return. I will prepare the other measures of Draught whilst you and your family are within the Pensieve. You will need to enter one at a time, as your face needs to touch the memories in order for them to absorb you. Seth, first, if you please..."

One by one, Harry watched as Seth and the others each threw themselves into the Pensieve. It seemed like a very long time before they came out, but Professor McGonagall walked over to him and pushed gently upon his shoulders, settling him back into the headmaster's chair. "They will return in a moment, Mr. Potter," she said softly and Harry could hear a slight muffle to her voice. He didn't dare look at either her or Snape, who still stood by the fireplace as though a sentinel to the passageway beyond.

One by one, the Cohens were brought out of the Pensieve, Mr. and Mrs. Cohen were both crying. Seth and Ryan were not, but both were extremely pale and shook very obviously. Professor Dumbledore handed them their vials of Calming Draught within seconds and they were downed straight away. Once Mrs. Cohen was able to speak again, she looked at Harry with as fierce an expression that he had ever seen on Molly Weasley and told him, "You're coming home with us...where you belong."

Seth was staring at Harry, his face drawn and quiet, though his shaking had stopped as the Draught took hold. Wordlessly, he walked forward and wrapped his arms around Harry, squeezing as tightly as he dared, given the way he'd seen their uncle hurl Harry down a flight of stairs (over the cupboard where they kept him, he realized with a detached sort of fury), and placed his face in the crook of Harry's neck.

"Brother," was all he said.

_...So believe it or not, this is a plan of action...This ain't no mercy mission, this is target practice..._

...TBC...


	3. Terrible, Yes, but Great

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer**: Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea.

**Summary:** "Greatness and charity, brilliance and strength run in this many-limbed family, Messrs. Potter-Cohen," he said quietly, addressing them both. "I cannot help but believe that unexpected, fantastic things will be the products of _all_ your works."

**Fandoms:** AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One.

**Timeline:** The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Hermione Granger or Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood (I haven't decided), Seth Cohen/Anna Stern.

**Notes:** I'll have to concentrate on Seth's Sorting in the next chapter. I wanted to give at least a few details of Seth and Ryan's first time in Diagon Alley, but it would have taken far too much time, so I decided to emulate Mike Newell and concentrate solely on what moves the plot forward for this particular part of the story. Not that I wasn't slightly annoyed by what he took out, but...

Part III: Terrible, Yes, but Great

_...You made me happier than I'd been by far..._

**Hospital Wing  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Hogsmeade, Scotland**

Seth sat with his legs crossed and his arms around his knees, watching Harry sleeping. The Gryffindor tie he'd been given after Professor McGonagall removed that creepy-as-hell Hat from his head was placed on the bed beside him. Ryan was hunched at the end of the bed next to Harry's, both of them watching him and wondering how in the world he was still sane. Ryan sighed, his head leaning backward as he turned a bit to glance at Seth. "So, I guess you're a wizard, too, huh?"

Seth blinked before looking at Harry's wand, which lay on the night table beside his bed. "I don't know. I mean, in Harry's memories..." and here he paused, swallowing, hesitating. Some of them had been his memories, too. Once he'd contributed the flashes of bright neon green light to a fireworks show or something he'd seen when he was really little but now he knew better. That was the curse meant to kill him and his brother. The curse that _had_ killed his biological parents. He didn't know if he could handle that or anything about what it meant. Part of him was angry because he'd had his birth parents, a brother, and they'd presumably loved each other--only to have it all torn apart for reasons he didn't even know, let alone understand. And when he tried to think of what it may have been like with James and Lily Potter (Harry had told him their names, told them that their father's whole family, purebloods, had gone to this school over a thousand years but their mother had been the only witch in her family, called a Muggleborn) but he only drew little more than a blank and even any of that he couldn't be sure wasn't simple conjecture or wishful thinking.

And then there was the injustice of his and Harry's completely different upbringings. His mom and dad had loved him, they'd told him, from the very first moment they'd set eyes on him. Harry had been beaten, starved, locked in a closet and forced to wear rags when not in his Hogwarts uniform. Seth gripped the blanket underneath him, gripping the edges and bunching them in his fists.

"I don't know--Harry's...memories showed stuff that happened to him when he was in trouble. Professor Dumbledore called it accidental magic. Re-remember that night on the beach when Luke and his flying monkeys attacked me at that party--before you came to help me, I remember the one holding me d-dropped me. It felt kind of like an electric shock and he yelled and I fell. And remember how my bruises and hangover went away so quickly? Maybe that's what they were talking about."

Ryan snorted, feeling the faint vestiges of mostly healed cuts on his knuckles. "Handy skill."

Seth sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I guess. But that's all I've got. Harry's been going here for five years, everyone said. He's way ahead of me as far as the whole magic thing goes. I don't even have a wand and I've been at the Harbor School for a couple of years now. I don't know what would happen if I were to drop out and come here and Harry's probably not going to leave here. I mean, really, this place looks totally insane and, hey, did you see the paintings on the way here?"

Seth's enthusiasm was returning as he remembered the hundreds of moving portraits that wallpapered the castle's halls, the way they moved in and out of their own frames like they were going through rooms of a house. It was...

"Awesome."

_...Stars like eyes turned out of the mist..._

Sandy and Kirsten remained in Professor Dumbledore's office, watching the headmaster wave his wand again and again, bringing up drafts of parchment that began to stack themselves before the two of them.

"So when we fill out or sign these forms, or whatever it is we're supposed to do," Kirsten asked nervously as Professor Dumbledore's face was creased in concentration. "We'll be able to take Harry home with us? Formally adopt him?"

"That matter has already been settled, Mrs. Cohen," Professor Dumbledore said, looking up from the latest parchment with eyes that felt as though they were seeing into every inch of her. "Harry's custody was a decided matter the moment Sirius Black was killed. The protection that resides inside him imbues Seth, as well, so it was a matter of finding your family and signing the necessary documents. You see, while the Dursleys--and I use this term in its barest sense--allowed Harry to houseroom, he was never within their custody, but mine. It was because I did not allow them to interfere that the Muggle world never intervened on his behalf. I am truly more sorry than I can say for the way I have failed to keep Harry safe--having seen once how much Petunia Evans loved her sister, had desperately wished to join her here when Lily was accepted at the age of eleven, I thought mistakenly that she would see Harry's mannerisms and his personality--for he is truly more like Lily than he knows and meeting Seth, I can certainly believe the same of him--and realize that he had gleaned just as much from her family as he had from his father's. She did not, however, as I suppose...in an anathema to her sister's immersion in our world, she began to cling to the Muggle world in ways that even most of your kind do not. Anything remotely out of her idea of the ordinary is to be disposed of, hidden, kept out of sight--in her husband's point of view...destroyed. Harry fit this undesired form to its most finite degree and for that he has suffered immensely."

And here Professor Dumbledore's now angered face hardened even further. "The Dursleys failed to grasp that at the very least, treating Harry well and giving him reason to truly claim their household as their home would have doubled the protection they already received. They did not, however, and the consequences, I...well, I suppose most would think my sense of righteousness to be impeccable but their crimes against an innocent boy has significantly lessened my ability to appreciate whatever happens to them from now on. When Severus apprehended Mr. Dursley in the commision of his latest transgression against Harry, this rather unintelligent, by default a belligerent and wholly unpleasant man thought it best to--"

Professor Dumbledore cut himself off and glanced at Professor Snape, who had paled even further than usual and gripped his unsheathed wand so hard, Dumbledore was afraid it may crack under the pressure of the magic threatening to surge through it.

Professor Dumbledore sighed heavily, nodded to the Cohens, and stood before walking quickly over to Professor Snape and whispering something in his ear. Professor Snape's face contorted in an ugly fashion and he took several deep breaths before going to stand behind the headmaster's desk, his back to everyone in the room and eyes on the grounds below outside the window.

Kirsten glanced at Professor McGonagall to see the older woman's wholly surprised expression at the scene she'd just witnessed. Kirsten found herself thinking that this man did not usually let his emotions show quite so clearly. She found herself appreciating a great deal the fact that this ire was a result of a boy, the young man they'd just met who was her son's only brother and link to his birth family, being viciously maltreated and maligned on a terribly regular basis. She felt Sandy's hand rubbing her shoulder just then and knew her emotions must show on her face, as well.

"Seth is a wizard, too," Sandy said then, his hand gripping hers, and his body leaning forward in a way that she could tell he didn't notice. "Would he have gone to this school?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded, "His name had been down ever since he was born, yes, just as Harry's was, but even if it hadn't been for Seth's special incidence, it is not mandatory that a wizard should go to Hogwarts or, indeed, any wizarding school. It is, however, preferable that they are learned in controlling their magic so as not to cause unintended damage to their surroundings, particularly when upset or afraid."

Sandy blew out a breath and looked at Kirsten, a mystified expression on his face, "Well, that certainly explains that time he was five and got in trouble in kindergarten for turning that boy's hair green. We had no way in the world to explain that..."

"And when it wouldn't wash out..." Kirsten elaborated, a nervous laugh escaping by accident. "So that was magic?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it was. Seth is not required to leave your home and come here, as I said it's preferable that Harry leave with you, but at the very least, he needs a wand and we will need to arrange for someone to tutor him privately so that incidents such as the one you described and the one when Mr. Atwood first came to live with you happen less often, if at all. And for the near future, Harry will need his health looked after--Madam Pomfrey wants him put to bed as soon as possible and he will need to rest as much as he is able. You will understand how arduous a task she considers this soon enough, I'd imagine, but Seth's accidental magic is the matter of most import as Harry is well-acquainted with our Hospital Wing for various incidents and Quidditch--ah, our sport, Harry plays the position of Seeker and is a prime target for fouls. But back to the matter at hand, your son's most recent burst of accidental magic happened, I believe, during some sort of altercation at a party where his presence nor Ryan's was not particularly well-received."

Sandy and Kirsten both blinked at the headmaster and Snape turned and glanced at McGonagall before turning back to them. "The headmaster was able to see the incident, whichever one it was, when your son and his friend first arrived here. They have no defenses against Legilimency, which is the ability to delve into the memories of others and sort through them, and their anxiety pushed most of their recent unpleasant thoughts directly to the fore. I attempted to teach Mr. Potter to defend himself against Legilimency this previous year. It was a disaster, to say the least."

And here he gave Dumbledore a singularly vicious scowl before turning back around. Dumbledore looked entirely unperturbed and simply sighed. "I already explained why it was such a difficult task, Severus--one I should have undertaken myself, we both understand this now. As it is, you also know you were not entirely correct about Harry's ability to Occlude you."

At this Professor Snape threw up his hands, "No, Dumbledore, if I was wrong, it was about Potter's complete lack of motivation to protect himself from harm! He made no effort whatsoever to defend himself from that--"

"We have also entertained discussions on that score, as well," Professor Dumbledore interrupted quietly and Professor Snape took a breath and frowned before turning and watching the Cohens, who were watching the scene with trepidation and confusion evident in their faces.

"I am willing," Professor Snape said quietly, sweeping the hems of his robes back before folding his arms over his tightly buttoned chest. "To tutor Mr. Cohen and Mr. Potter throughout this summer under the condition that they both put forth the effort that is expected of them. Mr. Potter has been trained by his previous...by the mongrels who raised him to under perform so as to avoid trouble."

Professor Snape bristled visibly before taking another deep breath and continuing, now beginning to pace back and forth upon the spot.

"This has carried over into his schoolwork here. It has been revealed to me that not only did Mr. Potter have absolutely no expectation that working to his potential would get him anywhere, he was shown time and time again for it to be exactly the case. As Professor Dumbledore has taken great and often pains to show me, Mr. Potter responds when his efforts have a result that bears nothing on his own survival or welfare. He knows no self-value and that will have to change if he is to ever achieve what he is obviously capable of, as you have seen, on a more consistent basis. The M--" Snape cut himself off, remembering that the Cohens themselves were Muggles and by any and all appearances were the exact opposite of Harry Potter's previous 'caretakers'. "Mrs. Dursley--and Mr. Dursley in particular--routinely made good on harsh punishments for even the slightest infractions. Mr. Potter is used to being trodden upon and kicked about as though he were nothing more than the rubbish they _stored_ him with in that godforsaken cupboard and what was basically a storage room thereafter."

Kirsten squeezed Sandy's hand, holding back with difficulty the sob that threatened as she remembered the evidence of what Professor Snape described.

"He does not try to care for himself, but those around him. He feels his worth lies in that and if I, myself, am to tutor your son and his brother in your home, I must have your oath that you will do your damnedest to alter this view to include himself."

Sandford and Kirsten both stood and shook Professor Snape's hand before Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall each clasped theirs and Professor Dumbledore gave them another Portkey before asking Professor McGonagall to accompany them to the Hospital Wing to pick up their sons before they were due to leave for Diagon Alley to buy Seth's and Harry's supplies.

"Before you leave," Professor Dumbledore called, stopping the Cohens on their way out the door. "Please be certain to alert Mr. Potter that I will have apprised his friends of where he will be staying this summer, with the exception of why and with whom, of course. That, as I believe you know, is for him to tell."

Kirsten nodded and with that, they began the trek to the Hospital Wing, following Professor McGonagall through the myriad hallways and hidden passageways that didn't seem to have been there before.

Deciding to worry about that later, she pushed it all to the back of her mind in favor of getting back to her sons. All three of them.

_...It's always hard in the morning, but I suppose that's the price you pay..._

Seth set the oddly shaped bundles from all the stores they'd been to so far--the largest package, books from Flourish and Blott's that had been charmed to be feather-light for the sheer amount of them, was placed on its own on the floor--and looked up to see a man with wide, pale eyes staring at him. He'd been a bit prepared for this, as Harry had told him what happened when he'd gone to Mr. Ollivander's shop five and half years before to get his own wand, but it was still unnerving.

"Well, well, Mr.--Cohen, is it, now?" Mr. Ollivander asked quietly, glancing from Seth to Harry and then to Sandy and Kirsten. "I certainly didn't expect to see you in here with your brother, but then no one did, I suppose. Well," he said, turning abruptly and grabbing a stack of boxes and removing a wand. "Perhaps you'll be as difficult to place as he was..."

Ryan leaned over and muttered at the two of them, "He sounds _happy_ about that..."

Harry chuckled nervously, "He _is_, believe me. Hermione told me that wandmakers are totally wild about them."

"Aha!" Mr. Ollivander's voice rang through the shop and he rushed forward with wand after wand... "Birch, springy, dragon heartsting--"

Seth took it and started to wave it, too, but no sooner than it touched his hand, Ollivander snatched it back again. "Aha, so it _does_ run in the family--now, as I told your brother, your mother favored a wand for Charms--swishy, made of willow, ten and a quarter inches long. Your father--a mahogany wand for Transfiguration--eleven inches, pliable. It chose him quite readily, I should say, but your brother--he was a very tricky customer, but I suppose we found out why in the end."

Ollivander's eyes trailed over Harry's scar and he scowled a bit, pushing his fringe down over it. "My wand's core came from Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's phoenix. Vol--" he stopped himself as he saw Ollivander visibly hitch and clutch his chest, the boxes of wands he held cascading to the ground. "You-Know-Who's wand is my wand's brother. That's why he and I can't duel against each other."

Ollivander nodded then, his eyes still locked on Harry as he pulled out his own wand and Summoned the boxes from the floor. "Yes, yes, Mr. Potter is quite right. Twin cores will not work properly against one another if forced to duel. His--I should say theirs are quite special because that particular phoenix has never given another feather for any wandmaker. Rather temperamental, phoenixes, but he especially--"

"Mr. Ollivander," Professor McGonagall interrupted crisply, "We are here to select Mr. Cohen's wand, as Mr. Potter and You-Know-Who obviously already have theirs, as has been attested to. We have a Portkey scheduled to leave the moment this family steps outside of the boundary of the Leaky Cauldron. We would like to get them back to the States as soon as possible so as not to alert certain parties to...Mr. Cohen's location, as they obviously suddenly remember his existence."

"Yes, yes, my sincerest apologies," Ollivander said courteously, glancing apologetically at both Harry and Seth, the latter of whom was definitely unused to such deferential treatment.

"What if--" Seth cut himself off, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts. Kirsten took his hand and he breathed deeply and continued, "What happens if a wand doesn't--doesn't choose me?"

At this Ollivander gave a light laugh and continued to shuffle through boxes. "You will _not_ leave here without a wand, Mr. Cohen, I assure you of that. Here--oak, unicorn tailhair, inflexible, eleven inches long--a quarter less than your brother's, I should add."

Seth swallowed and took the wand, gasping as he felt an immediate warmth in his fingers. He brought the wand forward and blue and silver sparks shot out the tip. Harry couldn't help himself, letting out a yell and clapping an astonished Seth on the shoulder. He glanced at his parents to see them looking surprised, but smiling widely as his mother rushed forward to envelop him in a hug.

"That's cool, man," Ryan said, grinning at Seth as Ollivander happily boxed Seth's wand back up and looked at everyone assembled with unmistakable pride.

"Greatness and charity, brilliance and strength run in this many-limbed family, Messrs. Potter-Cohen," he said quietly, addressing them both. "I cannot help but believe that unexpected, fantastic things will be the products of _all_ of your works."

And with that, they left the shop, meeting Professor Dumbledore in the parlor of the Leaky Cauldron, where he announced that in the interest of Harry's health, they were Flooing to the Cohens' house in Newport. With assurances that they would all see one another quite shortly, Harry and the headmaster disappeared and Professor McGonagall directed the remaining family through the simple matter of touching the Portkey--a cracked compact disc--and together, their shoulders bumping and the shrunken packages in their pockets zoomed forward until they landed in a heap on the Cohens' living room floor at six o'clock in the morning, Pacific Standard Time.

At precisely the same moment, Harry and Professor Dumbledore came spinning out of the fireplace and Dumbledore immediately cleared every trace of soot away with his wand. He clapped Harry on the shoulder and smiled sadly at him, "I think you will find this home far more suitable than your last. Until September, perhaps..."

With that, Dumbledore called out 'Hogwarts' and disappeared back into the fireplace. Harry stood for a moment, breathing deeply before turning to get his first real look at his new home. The living room, itself, was twice the size of the Dursleys' parlor and kitchen combined. He looked out through the patio doors and saw a swimming pool with water glistening darkly in the waning moonlight.

"Wow," was all he found he could say.

_...But underneath my presentation, yeah, I knew the walls were coming down and the stones that fell were aiming away from me..._

...TBC...


	4. Am I Meant to Know, But Not to Seek?

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer:** Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea.

**Summary:** He figured he had at least a little time.

**Timeline:** The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I should specify that in order for the two lines to sync up, I moved the start of 'The O.C.' back to the beginning of the summer as opposed to near the end.

**Fandoms:** AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One.

**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Hermione Granger or Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood (I haven't decided), Seth Cohen/Anna Stern.

**Notes:** I said in the last chapter I'd cover Seth's Sorting in this one, but my muse had other ideas. But first, the bedroom set Harry now owns is something like Seth's later on in canon, so I won't have to describe it extensively in prose.

Part IV: Am I Meant to Know, But Not to Seek?

**Eight hours later**

_...For all the wounds that are ever going to scar me, for all the ghosts that are ever going to catch me..._

Harry stood in the middle of the sidewalk leading to the mall Kirsten had brought himself and Ryan to, bright California sunshine refracting off his glasses and covering everything with a harsh glare that made him flinch and squint, covering his eyes with a hand. Glancing to his left, he saw an equally uncomfortable Ryan, both of them sharing a slight grimace of embarrassment before Kirsten placed her hands firmly on each of their shoulders and gently prodded them forward.

"Honestly, you two, you act like I'm dragging you to a bridal shower--you both need clothes, so we're getting them. I promise, I won't pick them for you. That way, I can at least save you some embarrassment."

Harry snorted, thinking that Kirsten's choices had to be infinitely better than anything the Dursleys had ever given him. He sighed and began the inordinately difficult walk through the front doors of a department store he'd never heard of but looked far more expensive than anything the Dursleys had ever owned themselves, let alone him. He paused and ran a hand through his hair, deciding to go with something simple for now.

"Where does Seth like to get his shirts and stuff?" he asked, the words coming out in a rush as he blushed yet again. Kirsten smiled and gave her head a slight shake before placing her hands on his shoulders again and leading them past the department store into the brighter exterior of the actual mall. There were three stores, apparently, that Seth liked to shop in and they visited them all, Kirsten encouraging Harry to get whatever caught his eye, assuring him that it was perfectly fine and he wasn't going to hurt anyone by indulging himself for once in his life.

Biting his lip, Harry grabbed several graphically detailed t-shirts off the display shelves, wondering how the cashiers and other patrons, not to mention Kirsten, managed to ignore the very loud industrial rock music blaring through speakers hidden somewhere overhead. He looked at the displays on the walls, highlighting certain shirts.

"Fullmetal Alchemist?" he asked, one t-shirt in particular holding his attention. There was a blond long-haired boy dressed in a long red jacket with black clothing and boots with what looked like a huge suit of armor standing behind him. Behind them both, what looked like the shapes and symbols Hermione used in her Ancient Runes class at Hogwarts was picked out in shiny black material. Below that shirt, a stack of identical ones stood waiting.

"Take one," Kirsten smiled, gesturing to others like it with different designs for animated shows he'd never seen and bands he'd never heard of. "In fact, take a bunch. Seth gets his shorts in Pacific Sun and his shoes in Journeys, so we might as well go to those places next and see if there's anything you two want from there, as well. And, Harry, we're getting your eyes checked and don't even think of objecting on the grounds of price." Kirsten waved a dismissive hand, then, frowning. "It's not a factor and even if it had been, your aunt and uncle should have at least gotten you an affordable pair that would actually _do_ something for you. I don't know how you can function with those--you've had them for over a decade and your prescription is bound to have changed several times by now. How you can sit in the back of classrooms with your friends, I'll never know, but we're still getting them replaced."

Harry felt his mouth shut with an audible click, sighing at Kirsten's mildly stern expression. He bit his lip and nodded, removing his glasses and rubbing the lenses self-consciously with his shirt.

Ryan shrugged and picked up a black leather wristband from the display sitting on the cashier's counter, muttering, "I guess I'll take this. I can get shirts and stuff from JC Penney's, I guess--or do they even have that here?"

Kirsten smiled a little and pointed back toward the Macys that extended up to the second level up from the escalator. Ryan blanched a little, blinking and muttering, "Oh."

***

By the time they got back to the car, both Harry and Ryan were busy trying to stammer effusive thank yous to Kirsten, who was secretly trying to hide the fact that it bothered her when their excessive gratitude for what should have been a regular shopping trip with complaining about spending it with overbearing mothers had been far from it. Harry, in particular, now wearing brand-new rimless, flexible wire-framed glasses (with scratch resistant lenses that automatically darkened in sunlight!) that had never been broken, stepped on, or so much as smudged and had stood in the Suncoast Motion Pictures store, his eyes as wide as Seth's had been in Diagon Alley, astonished that there was so much television and movies anyone could watch and that he was free to try out anything he wished. He'd thought about the t-shirts he'd picked out in that other store and grabbed what appeared to be a collector's edition of Fullmetal Alchemist, the show itself, from the shelves, as well as what looked like a matching Fullmetal Alchemist schoolbag and DVDs of shows he actually recognized like Blackadder. By the time they got home, he owned more clothing and nonmagical objects within the space of a few hours than he ever had in his life.

Upon their return through the kitchen patio doors, Sandy immediately sat them down at the kitchen table and made them eat before Seth popped up and covered Harry's eyes with his hands, protesting gently when Harry tried to pry them away.

"Nuh-uh, no looking. I don't know any spells yet and Dad won't let me use one of his ties, so you'll just have to clean your glasses after you see."

"See what?" Harry asked, stumbling slightly as Seth, Kirsten, and Sandy led himself and Ryan through the house back to what was now his and Seth's bedroom. When Seth opened the door, they found that all of Seth's furniture had been moved to the far side of the room, leaving a large open space where another bed and other furniture would fit. There was also a vacant side of Seth's closet with drawers inside under the empty hangers showing a clear intent for Harry to store his own things in the room, as well. The right side of the room's walls had been bared, the posters previously covering them having been moved over to what now seemed to be Seth's side of the room.

Before Harry could say anything, Sandy took the bags of clothing and objects and set them down on the floor before pulling out a catalog full of furniture and handing it to Harry. "Look through here and pick out what you want--use these sticky notes to mark it all. We'll drive down to IKEA tomorrow and get it."

All Harry could do was sink onto what was currently his and Seth's bed, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. He bent over, gripping his legs with his arms, his face screwing up no matter how hard he tried to keep it straight. He heard a whimper escape and bit his lip, trying to keep more from escaping. Eyes clenched shut, he felt arms coming to circle him, his body rising, his face being pressed gently into the crook of a neck. The last time he remembered being held by a mother was the night Voldemort returned. But it didn't feel like this--Ron gave him clothes to replace the ones the Dursleys foisted on him--but no one had ever asked him what _he_ wanted or been able to get it for him if they had. Kirsten didn't say anything, simply rubbing Harry's back as she felt hot tears dripping onto her throat.

"You're home now, kiddo," he heard Sandy saying softly overhead. "This will always be yours, even when Hogwarts can't be."

_...Well, you can count on me to hold you 'til the healing is done..._

The next night found Harry sitting on a brand new bed, his legs dangling over the side and softly kicking the shelves underneath that he had yet to fill with anything. Sandy and Kirsten had encouraged him to get whatever he felt comfortable with, including a wardrobe to store any other clothes in and even took him to buy his own computer, though he chose a different type than Seth's, laughing as his brother attempted to start a debate over whether PCs or Macs could beat each other up in an alley. Harry now had a Hewlett-Packard PC laptop warming his belly as he wrote his first email to Hermione, explaining the situation but a bit of parchment (this carrying his new email address) and four letters to Luna, Neville, Ron, and Ginny sat on one of the desks he now shared with Seth, awaiting Hedwig's return from hunting. Across the room, Seth sat on his own bed reading The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One, and was nearing the end. He'd taken his wand out of the box by now and was waving it rather aimlessly around as he read. Harry could hear his headphones blasting something, but hadn't managed to learn which band was which yet. He figured he had at least a little time.

***

The next morning, Harry pulled on his new bathrobe and ambled down the hall to find Ryan in the kitchen fixing breakfast. Without a word, he took his robe back off, washed his hands and began to help.

"You two make me look _so bad_," Seth moaned as he, too, came in, his face the definition of 'what the hell?' "Now I'll have to learn to cook just to keep up."

"It wouldn't kill you," Sandy said, coming into the kitchen barefoot and standing his surfboard up against the wall. "So, boys, what's for breakfast?"

"Eggs," Ryan told him, glancing at Harry's frying pan before amending. "Actually, omelets. I don't know what kind, though. There's no pork here, obviously, so they're probably vegetarian."

Harry nodded, flipping a just-finished omelet onto a plate with a well-practiced hand and setting it in front of a delighted and surprised Sandy. "Cheese, mushrooms, tomatoes, and green onions."

"Guh," Seth blathered, wide-eyed as Ryan poured apple juice into a glass and handed it to Sandy, as well. "So...um, when can the Julian Childs of this family teach me how to feed myself?"

"I'm not anything like Julia Child," Harry asserted, sliding the last of a stack of French toast onto a large plate and placing that on the table before Ryan finished the deal with slices of various fruits. "I've just had a lot of practice."

"Me, too," Ryan said quietly, both of them sharing a quick look before sitting down to take part in the fruits of their labor. Kirsten and Sandy had been adamant that if either Ryan or Harry was going to do any cooking, they'd both eat as much of it as they liked, with the rest of the family.

"Harry," Kirsten announced, coming into the kitchen after having evidently showered. "Your doctor's appointment is on Monday at..."

She stopped and stared at the masses of breakfast food on the table before giving both Harry and Ryan looks of speechlessness. "Boys, this...you know it wasn't necessary."

"We know," Ryan agreed quickly, reaching forward and spearing a slice of French toast onto his fork to transfer to a plate. "I just like cooking."

"Yeah," Harry added, swallowing a mouthful of omelet. "It's relaxing when it's a..." he'd been about to say 'choice', but snapping his mouth shut and blushing again, he just took another mouthful of omelet.

To cover the awkward moment, Seth announced, "Harry, you have an _International Professional Standard_ broomstick--a Firebolt, if your enthusiastic description serves me correctly. Dad says he'll drive us out somewhere really secluded and we'll see if my--excuse me, _our_ Jewishness hasn't hindered my ability to play a sport where my feet don't have to touch the ground. Though there's still the question of catching a...Quaffle, did you call it?"

Sandy rolled his eyes and Harry laughed, "Yeah, Seth. I told you--Quidditch has four balls, though Quidditch Through the Ages by Kennilworthy Whisp says that most American wizards play Quodpot, where the Quaffle is bewitched to explode and then a team has to get it into this barrel with non-exploding potion in it before it does. Something about a Colonial wizard accidentally blowing up his Quaffle when he got it out of his trunk to form a Quidditch team here. It blew up in his face and I guess he got a laugh out of it. There are a few professional teams here, but nothing like Europe, Africa, and Asia. But, anyway, there's the Quaffle--"

"That's used by the Chasers to score goals," Seth recited and Harry grinned. "And the Bludgers--there're two of them--are made of iron and fly around trying to kill everyone on the field."

"They're not supposed to _kill_ anyone. Their job is unseat any random player--the Beaters bat them away from their own team members. Dobby just got a bit overenthusiastic, that's all."

"That's _all_?" Sandy asked, flabbergasted. "He broke your arm and almost got you killed."

"He was just trying to get me sent home because he knew what was going to happen with the Chamber of Secrets and didn't want me to get hurt. He's just...tetchy, that's all. Anyway, that was years ago. He's free now and he'll do what I and my friends ask just because he wants to. He still doesn't like to get paid very much. He said Dumbledore tried to pay him, like, ten Galleons a week and have weekends off, but he thought that was overdoing it."

Harry swallowed a mouthful of orange juice before shaking his head and waving his knife and fork a bit. "Anyway, I play Seeker for Gryffindor and my job is to catch the Golden Snitch, which is worth an extra one-hundred and fifty points."

"Professor Dumbledore told us you get fouled quite often," Kirsten said worriedly, eyeing him beadily. Harry was strongly reminded of Mrs. Weasley again. "And the match you mentioned, from what we saw in that Pensieve thing, was no exception. After your friend Dobby's Bludger broke your arm some idiot took all the bones out of it."

Harry flinched, struggling not to roll his eyes at the memory. "_Professor_ Lockhart--that vain, dishonest, skiving prat. He knew nothing, absolutely nothing about Defense Against the Dark Arts or probably much else. He couldn't even handle pixies and what's Dark about them? Idiot. Hermione, Ron, and I had to stay after that class to round them all up. Neville wouldn't do it because they'd grabbed him by the ears and hung him up in the air by the chandelier. But Lockhart almost did a runner the night Ginny was taken into the Chamber. Or he would've, if Ron and I hadn't stopped him. Gormless git."

By now a very sour look was on Harry's face and Seth clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, now _I'll_ be the gormless git...or whatever you said, what with all the British slang that went right over my head--when I get on a broomstick for the first time."

"It's easy," Harry said, waving a careless hand. "As long as you're not afraid of heights or anything. I think brooms are kind of like horses. They can tell when you don't want to be on one."

Ryan froze, glancing at Harry now and Harry grinned. "You're afraid of heights...aren't you?"

"You know, mockery isn't a good look for you," Ryan muttered, sighing and letting his fork fall to his nearly empty plate.

"I'm not mocking," Harry protested, smiling reassuredly. "Neville was so scared during our first flying lesson that he accidentally shot off too early and fell to the ground. He broke his wrist and Madam Hooch took him to the Hospital Wing. He was all fixed up in a minute. Malfoy was the problem, though. As soon as they were gone, he grabbed Neville's Remembrall--he used to be really bad at remembering things back then--and took off on his broom. I got Neville's Remembrall back for him and thought I was going to be expelled because Madam Hooch had said not to fly while she was gone, but I couldn't just let Malfoy get away with it. Anyway, I wound up on the team. Youngest Seeker in a century. Wood was beside himself--er, Oliver Wood. He was our captain until my third year, when he graduated. He plays on the Puddlemere United reserve team now. We finally won the Quidditch Cup that year and the only one who cried harder than he did was Professor McGonagall because she finally got the Cup away from Snape. Anyway, we've won whenever we've played for the Cup since then."

"Yes, well," Kirsten said, a small smile on her face. "You've got a doctor's appointment next Monday at two o'clock."

"I thought Madam Pomfrey was going to do all that?" Harry asked, now rather alarmed. "She's coming anyway, to check on my liver and ribs and stuff."

"Yes," Kirsten said, her voice hardening just a little at the memory of how Harry had received those injuries in the first place. "But you still need a check-up for regular...Muggle stuff. Did you get vaccinations when you were younger?"

Harry nodded, scowling at the memory. "Yeah, I remember the nurse at primary school said on my first day that if I wasn't taken to see a doctor regularly, she'd report the Dursleys. They bothered after that. The dentist was okay--Hermione says that wizards can't get cavities or anything like that, so all I ever needed was cleaning. Dudley has loads of fillings, though."

"Huh," Sandy interjected, eyeing Seth with interest. "And here we thought you were just a good little boy brushing your teeth like you should."

"I was and I did," Seth objected, pouring more orange juice. "It's not my fault I had extra help we didn't know about."

"Hermione's parents are dentists," Harry said and Sandy blew out a breathy laugh. "They weren't very happy to hear that them teaching her all that was pretty much useless."

"I can imagine," Kirsten said, smiling then, and they finished their breakfast planning where Harry was going to take Seth flying without getting caught.

_Throw your dollar bills and leave your thrills all here with me..._

Harry stood in the middle of the suitably deserted grassy knoll Sandy had driven the boys to, bending over and setting the Firebolt on the ground. Sandy stood off to the side with Ryan, secretly wishing he had a camera.

"The first step," Harry said shortly, stepping back and gesturing to the broom. "Place your right hand over the broomstick and say, 'Up!'"

Seth felt his eyebrows rise, surprised by the seeming ease of this first part. "That's it?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, now do it."

Seth sighed and took a deep breath, holding his hand over the broomstick lying on the grass and saying quietly, "Up."

The broom quivered, but didn't move otherwise.

"Seth, come on, you call that a command?" Harry said sharply, raising an eyebrow at his twin. "You can't whisper at it!"

"Are you saying these things can hear?" Seth gave him a look, noting that part of him really wanted to know the answer.

Harry shook his head. "You know how when you train a dog, you have to make the dog _know_ what you want it to do? Magic is the same way. You can't be indecisive. Two spells can never be cast at once, only one right after another. Channeling magic doesn't multitask. Now. _Tell_ the broom to go up."

Seth took another deep breath and stared at the broom, snapping, "Up!" The Firebolt promptly jumped into his hand, where Seth could feel it vibrating in his grip. It was possibly the strangest sensation he'd ever come across. He let it go and the Firebolt hovered in front of him.

"It's waiting for you to mount. Swing your right leg over before gripping with your hands."

"So it's like getting on a bike?"

"I don't know," Harry said quietly, his face downcast as a faint pink tinge came to his cheeks. "I've never had one."

Seth resisted the urge to goggle at his twin and concentrated on doing as Harry said, expecting an impromptu wedgie but being rewarded with the sensation of sitting on a pillow. "How come--"

"Cushioning Charm," Harry clarified, grinning slightly. "Standard on all modern brooms. The very first broomstick is in the Quidditch Museum in England. From the illustration Whisp gave us, I'd hate to ride it anywhere even in an emergency."

Seth snorted and gripped the handle, frowning a bit. "Okay, now what?"

"Push off just a little bit with your legs. You don't want to take off because you'd probably be seen by someone driving and we'd be in violation of the Statute."

Seth attempted to give a little spring and felt his feet part with the ground. He hovered a few feet up, laughing as Sandy and Ryan both whooped and cheered in the background. Harry, himself, simply stood with a slight smile on his face. "Now lean forward slightly and come back down."

Seth felt his toes touch the ground and immediately vaulted off the broom, attempting tackling Harry, who dodged to the side, both of them laughing.

"Hey, stop!" Harry yelled, laughing as Seth gave him a vicious noogie and shoving him away. "Madam Pomfrey'll kill us both! You can get your _own_ broom! You'll get used to it!"

"All right, all right," Sandy grinned, coming over and pulling Seth off his brother. "Give Harry space to breathe. You haven't shown him your boat."

Seth popped up and his eyes widened and he stared at Ryan. "Dad. Ryan. The docks. Now."

***

_...This could be destiny, oh sweetheart...I have no sense of time since we started..._

_Dear Hermione,_

This letter is only slightly different than the ones I've sent Luna, Neville, Ron, and Ginny, but by now I guess the headmaster's told you I'm not living at the Dursleys anymore. He told me I could tell you why and how but, to be honest, I don't really know how to explain it. All I suppose I can do is try. According to Sirius' will and Professor Snape (I'll get to that in a minute Ron, shut the hell up for a tick and let me get this out--sorry, Hermione, that was in case you're all together and reading these at once), I have a twin brother named Seth who was sent to live with adoptive parents after my our mum and dad were killed by Voldemort. To get to the point, that's where I am now. They We live in America, in California, in a place called Newport Harbor and there's another kid here that the Cohens--that's Kirsten and Sandy's last name, and Seth (my brother) since they adopted him when we were little--took in, too. His name is Ryan Atwood and he's kind of quiet but really smart like you, Hermione. Sandy told me about tests they take here in the States when kids are in secondary school (they call it high school here) called the Scholastic Aptitude Test or the Practice version if you're younger, but Ryan did really, really well. Anyway, he got in some trouble with his older brother and his mum threw him out and Sandy had told him to ring him if he needed anything, so he did. His mum was here a few days before Dumbledore called me back to school and she said she wanted Ryan to stay here because he'd be able to stay out of trouble, so they've adopted him like they did me when Dumbledore spoke to them. So, I guess I'm Harry Potter-Cohen now, and I know I'm rambling but if you met my brother, you might understand where I picked the habit up from. Oh, and before I forget, he has a boat and it's named after this girl here who he used to fancy but apparently he's getting over it. I'd never been on a boat before and Seth got to ride my Firebolt after Sandy drove us somewhere as hidden as possible, and he'd never been on a broom before so it was an even trade.

But when I said that Ryan was smart, Seth's smart, too. He goes to a Muggle school called the Harbor Academy and takes university level classes but Snape (shut UP, Ron) and someone else are going to tutor him in the magic he's missed because it'd help keep him out of trouble. There's other stuff, too, but it'd take a really long time to explain it all. Anyway, Sandy and Kirsten took Ryan and I to a mall here and bought us clothes because...well, you know I needed some and I guess all of Ryan's stuff was left at his mum's place before they cleared out. They also took me to this huge furniture store and bought me a bed and stuff and Seth and I share a room now, like Fred and George, but no one's going to get us confused because we look completely different. Kirsten says we're fraternal twins and I looked it up on my new computer and it's called something else, as well, but I can't remember it at the moment. Just a second--

Okay, we're called dizygotic twins and Fred and George are monozygotic because their chromosomes are exact copies. Anyway, apparently, the only reason we're not regular brothers is because we were born at the same time. Otherwise, we'd be like Bill and Charlie, I guess. We don't know who's older, though, because no one can tell us, but that's okay. But, back to the aptitude testing thing. I was curious about it so I asked and Kirsten took Seth, Ryan, and I to the Harbor School and we met his headmistress, a woman named Dr. Kim. She interviewed Ryan and I separately and she asked me if I was interested in leaving my own school (of course I didn't tell her what kind of school it was, Ron, you prat!) and transferring to this one for the new year. To be honest, I'm not quite sure. It's complicated, I guess. I like Hogwarts, but you guys know I hate being stared at all the time and being whispered about and everyone looking at my scar the second they see me or assuming all kinds of things about me just because of something I can't even remember. But, anyway, I have all summer to think about it and Sandy and Kirsten both say anything I decide to do is okay and only to think about what's going on right now. It's not an immediate decision.

I'm getting sidetracked again. Um, Dr. Kim organized placement and aptitude tests for me and, I guess, Ryan, though I don't know how his interview went. My tests are Tuesday afternoon and on Monday, Kirsten's taking me to the doctor because she says that even though Madam Pomfrey's taking care of my injuries from that night with Uncle Vernon, I still need to be checked up just because it's been such a long time since I've had one. Oh, right, and my guardians, for lack of better term at the moment, have invited you guys to stay here. There's plenty of room (you wouldn't believe how big this house is compared to the Dursleys') and I guess, Hermione, you and Luna, could sleep in the den or something. It's really comfortable in there and there's books all over the walls so you'd probably want to stay in there anyway. Though now I've got loads of books, too, like the ones I used to sneak and read when the Dursleys left me alone while they went out and a new bookshelf to put them all on.

On the downside, I finally met the infamous Luke Ward today (Seth and Ryan have both mentioned him a couple of times) and he's basically Malfoy's American counterpart without even trying. They both have blond hair even, though Luke's is darker and he's taller. Before I got here, something really bad happened between him and our neighbour, Marissa Cooper, whose dad is Kirsten and Sandy's best friend, Jimmy. But now Seth, Ryan, Marissa, and their friend Summer, who Seth used to fancy won't talk to him and Marissa moved out of her mum's house and into her dad's. They don't live together anymore, but I haven't found out why and from the sound of it I don't really want to know. Anyway, the point is, I guess you'll meet them if you guys come here and they'll meet all of you.

Hermione, PLEASE try and give Ron some kind of lesson in Muggle Studies or something. Neville and Luna are pretty good with at least pretending to be Muggles during the holidays, but we both know Ron is horrible at pronouncing stuff like 'computer' and 'telephone' and, well, you get the idea.

Send your reply at my new email address, Hermione, since you told me you already had a computer, but the rest of you can send yours with Hedwig. And, hey, Hermione! I've been watching an anime called _Fullmetal Alchemist_ on DVD (and got a t-shirt and new schoolbag with Edward and Alphonse Elric on it, but those I'll show you later) and the formulas for the transmutations they perform look a lot like what you've been doing in Ancient Runes all this time! The only thing you've ever told Ron or I is that you love the class, it's your favorite! I feel a bit cheated here! *sulks*

Hopefully I'll see you guys soon,

Harry...Potter-Cohen, I guess?

_...I'm not larger than life, I'm not taller than trees..._

...TBC...


	5. Not Necessarily Worthless

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer:** Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea.

**Summary:** And if it comes to that, if it comes to you _never wanting to set bloody eyes on me again if not for setting me afire, Professor,_ then please--stop doing whatever you've been doing for the past five--no, fourteen years. Because you took one look at me when I was eleven and decided I was my father and that, as far as I'm concerned, is the end of it.

**Timeline:** The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I should specify that in order for the two lines to sync up, I moved the start of 'The O.C.' back to the beginning of the summer as opposed to near the end.

**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Hermione Granger or Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood (I think Harry's going to decide, looks like...), Seth Cohen/Anna Stern.

**Fandoms:** AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One.

**Notes:** I will finally cover Seth's Sorting in this one. And, apparently, this decided to take a completely unexpected turn. Oh dear. No CAPS!Harry, but it was a close call...

Part V: Not Necessarily Worthless

_...This is the moment that you know that you told her that you loved her, but you don't..._

"So your mate, Anna, _paid_ someone to stop the ferris wheel with Ryan and Marissa at the top until they sorted themselves out?"

Seth nodded, shoveling a spoonful of chocolate ice cream into his mouth and looking away from the menu section of the first of Harry's FMA DVDs. "Yeah, and then..." he trailed off, thinking about the sort of surprising thing that happened next. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then thought of a different tack. "Has a friend ever kissed you?"

Harry took a breath, remembering the peck on the cheek Hermione had given him after fourth year. "Yeah. Hermione. On my cheek."

Seth nodded, pointing at Harry with his spoon. "Anna kissed me on the lips that night."

Harry looked over, dropping his own spoon into his bowl. "You fancy her?"

"I..." Seth hesitated, giving his head a little shake. "What? Oh, you mean do I _like_ her? Well, yeah, sure--she's been my friend since we were way little, before she and her mom moved to Pittsburgh. Ah, that's Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. It's on the East Coast--you may know it as one of the Colonies."

"Shut up, Seth," Harry resisted the urge to make a face. "Do you _like_ her, like her?"

Seth leaned back against the couch and blew out a breath, idly wondering where Ryan had gotten off from his shift at the diner yet. He took a deep breath. "Do you know anybody you'd swear liked each other, but all they do is snipe and mock one another?"

Harry snorted, "You've just described Hermione and Ron exactly. He's made her cry--I mean, I'm tactless, but bloody hell--I...I hate it when he does that, acts like she's only there to help with homework or something."

"Or helping keep one of our other friends' mother from having her committed," Seth said in a dejected voice and Harry scowled a bit.

"Yeah. Does Summer make you feel like that? Like you're just here for her convenience and then she forgets all about you, practically, until you're 'useful' again?"

Seth blew out a breath. "One day she may even know my name--aside from 'Cohen', I mean."

"You really don't like how she treats you, either," Harry said plainly and Seth felt something shift inside him.

"I think we have stuff in common..."

"Just not the right stuff," Harry finished and Seth nodded.

"God, where have you--okay, stupid question. So, what do you have in common with Hermione?"

Harry chuckled a bit. "Well, we both care more about our grades than Ron, I think. And while I'm not completely crazy about reading everything in sight, I like to read for more than just school. The Dursleys...imagination is pretty much a foreign concept to them. Fred and George--those are Ron's older brothers--they're excellent with innovating pranks and things like that, but I can't imagine Ron ever putting that much effort into anything. He's...well, I don't _like_ to say he's lazy, but he's terrible about putting his schoolwork off until the last minute. I'm bad about that because I let him convince me to join him in whatever distraction he's come up with. When I was in primary, it was a high crime to get a better grade than Dudley. I actually had to train myself to second-best him. And now it's a habit I barely even think about, but I feel guilty when McGonagall tells me stuff like that if she has to tutor me nightly, she'll make sure I become an Auror--er, that's a Dark Wizard catcher. Anyway, it's always been like, when I screw up, everyone knows about it and it never dies. When I screwed up with the Dursleys, I was punished for months at a time. And screwing up usually meant doing whatever Dudley didn't."

Harry ran his hand through his hair again and flinched slightly at the dark look he saw coming over his brother's face. "But the point is that the only thing I think we _don't_ have in common is that I love Quidditch and Hermione couldn't give less than a damn about that. She's really passionate about House Elf Rights--er, Dobby, he's a House-Elf. He used to work for the Malfoys and they treated him like absolute shite--I freed him by giving him a sock and now he loves them and I get them for him every Christmas. But, generally, they're not treated well at all, I have to admit. All they really care about is serving the families they're...given to or assigned to or however it works. And wizards have taken advantage of that, a lot of them not really even thinking of house elves as having feelings or being capable of shame or love or anything regarding independent thinking and that's rubbish. They think that about a lot of magical creatures, actually, but house-elves get the worst of it because they don't get to protect themselves."

Then something Dumbledore told him the previous week after returning to his office filtered through Harry's memory. _...I don't think Sirius ever thought of Kreacher having feelings as acute as a human's..._

"Our...godfather...the reason he died..." Harry took a deep breath, a heavy weight coming to settle in his chest and a burning feeling starting behind his eyes. "His mistreatment of Kreacher, the Black family house elf...gave Kreacher no reason to feel loyal to him. His cousins, Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange...Hermione says that when we tried to find him over last summer holidays after Sirius ordered him out and Kreacher took him at his literal word...he went straight to Malfoy Mansion and told them everything they wanted to know. They were probably really nice to him. Wizarding concepts don't mean anything to house elves or other magical creatures and everyone likes to forget that when it suits them. Even if it's for a good reason, or their _opinion_ of what a good reason is."

It was hard for Harry to think about this, just as it had been difficult to come to terms with what he'd seen his father and Sirius do to Snape in the Pensieve. But he had to. Painting his father's image with a golden brush had done nothing to serve either himself or James. It certainly didn't do anything for Sirius or for Seth, who hadn't known anything of any of them. Not one of the Marauders meant a jot to him, but Harry wanted to make sure that his brother had a much clearer picture of their father's life than he'd been given. It was the only fair thing to do and if no one else was concerned with fairness, then he would be.

"They were good men," Harry said, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "For the most part. But they weren't perfect. And they loved us--Dad fancied Mum for years, but until he stopped being such an obvious prat, she wouldn't have anything to do with him. Bullying...it brings out the worst in everyone. And not just the one doing it, either."

Seth nodded, a subdued expression on his face. He wished, in a way, that he could feel as deeply about their biological parents and godfather as Harry did, but having only just found all of this out, it was difficult. He tried to imagine how he would feel if he found out Sandy!Dad...for lack of a differentiating term...had been a bully after hearing nothing but good things about him, like Harry had experienced with James!Dad. It gave him a twisting feeling in his gut, like someone had given one of his internal organs a good wrench. "So..." his voice petered out and he realized he couldn't think of anything to say. "We've gotten sidetracked," he realized with a small smile.

Harry returned it, picking up his bowl of rather melted ice cream between them and finishing it. "What else do you want to know?"

Seth's head tilted a little and he gave Harry an uneasy glance. "This Snape guy who's supposed to be tutoring me--"

"Me, too--"

"Yeah, but you've already been taught by him for five years."

"It wasn't a laugh, I'll tell you that."

"That's what I need to know! What happens if I don't meet his--"

"You won't. No one does. Even Hermione doesn't because she actually answers his questions. His _expectations_ are that everyone is a quote-unquote 'dunderhead' and either you fit that mold and you're just what he thought or you're actually _good_ at something and he's denied the pleasure of reaming you out. There's no way to win, Seth, so don't even bother on that front." Harry sighed at the crestfallen look on Seth's face. "Look. The important thing is not to let him get to you. If you can ignore him and concentrate on what you're supposed to be doing, then all the better. If he doesn't comment, then you've done well. He never comments on Hermione's work, for example."

Seth blew out an uneasy breath, remembering several days ago in the headmaster of Hogwarts' office, when he'd last seen Professor Snape. He'd been Sorted into Gryffindor that day and Snape had rolled his eyes and muttered, "Of course," under his breath.

Professor McGonagall had taken the filthy looking hat after the headmaster suggested it and asked Seth to sit on a three-legged stool that stood beneath the hat's pedestal. He'd done so and felt the hat land on his head.

_Something tells me I should have seen you quite a long while ago,_ a disembodied voice in his head thought and Seth jumped. _I_ did _see your brother, which begs questions, but now isn't the time for that. You're here for the same reason most, albeit younger, children put me on. Now, I'll advise you in advance that there's no need to speak aloud. It's all here in your head and I can hear you just fine._

_Oh. Dandy._ Seth gripped the edges of the stool beneath him, aware of all the eyes in the room on him and really wishing this had been private. _So...what's the what? There were four animals on the coat of arms I've seen everywhere, so I'll assume that there's four places for me._

_Four Houses, yes. Very observant of you, Mr. Potter, or would you prefer Cohen?_

Seth gave it a moment's thought and found himself shrugging. _I've been a Cohen all my life and a Potter for about an hour. Or I just didn't know I was a Potter. But I'm not sure I want to ignore my...first parents. Or my brother. I can't believe I remember him._

_Yes, a rather interesting phenomenon. You don't __know_ him, but at the same time you do. The connection between the two of you runs deeper than you'll probably ever realize. But, introspection aside, it is my duty to put you somewhere--your mind is quite fabulous, I have to say. Your brother is extremely intelligent, as well. I wonder what may have happened if I had Sorted him at this time now, as well.

_Why's that, perchance?_ Seth asked, opening his eyes to glance at Harry for a moment.

_He was eleven years old, as I told you most are when I meet them, and quite prone to being open to the suggestions of others. He was told rather a lot about Slytherin House before he got here, most of it very unflattering, and a deep bias formed. It isn't all black and white, the way the Houses really are, but everyone who has passed through this school has a tendency to forget that there has been bravery in those other than Gryffindor, cunning and ambition in more than Slytherins, loyalty and willingness to work hard deeper than you'll see even in the most ardent Hufflepuff, and brilliance that transcends the ideals of Ravenclaw._

_I get the feeling you don't really like doing this._

_I have no problem with Sorting the students. It's their decision to deepen the Sorting into impenetrable gorges of bias and dislike, then to pass that narrow-minded, ill-tempered mode of thinking on to future generations with no regard, no learning from past mistakes. I cannot force the Houses to work together, only try to encourage, and I have. Whether they listen is always up to them. They are not autonomatrons, despite some behavior as such. I will tell them as often as it takes that they must work together. One day, they may listen. For one House, in particular, it may be too late._

_Slytherin_, Seth sighed in his head, tilting it to the side. _So...imminent destruction of the stubborn student body aside, what do you see?_

_Well, Mr. Potter-Cohen, ideally, I would_ not _Sort you, as I see so many of these qualities in you--your unwillingness to assimilate into the mindset of your peers despite the relief it may bring you from isolation, your aptitude and ease of learning, your deep connection to your adoptive parents and the seemingly instantaneous bond you have formed with both of your brothers with no prompting, your ability to go to great lengths of planning out of that same loyalty to save those you care about and feel are in peril...if I had my wish, you would not be Sorted at all. I have watched your brother's interactions with those in other Houses, even those in Slytherin who are_ not _openly mocking and degrading those whom he considers friends--even those who are. The pair of you are a rare find and I imagine that if no one had enticed your brother to wish so intently on someplace other than Slytherin--which, I must admit, there is a large part of him that would fit in well with that House, even now, but not for reasons that anyone would probably believe--he would have been a very generous credit to that House in the way of relations with other students. But as I am the only entity with the full knowledge of what the Founders of this school saw for their students, why should they?_

At any rate, while there is truly no House that I would Sort you--or your brother, in retrospect--into, I am condemned (that is the only word I can think of, unfortunately) to do so. In the sheer interest of not seeing your family torn asunder once more for any reason, especially one so petty, I shall indeed attempt to help you foster an accord with your brother that your conscious mind can appreciate. It is with that in mind, Mr. Potter-Cohen, that it shall be "Gryffindor!"

Before Seth could remove the Sorting Hat from his head, Harry's intrigued smile trained directly on him, he heard the Hat whisper, _Try to help him_ keep _his mind open, won't you?_

_The Atlantic was born today and I'll tell you how...The clouds above opened up and let it out...I was standing on the surface of a perforated sphere when the water filled every hole...And thousands upon thousands made an ocean, making islands where no islands should go...Oh, no..._

Seth met Professors Snape and Lupin later that evening. They were sequestered in the kitchen, outlining what would become a course schedule for Seth and subjects that Harry either wanted to attempt or improve upon. When Lupin lay eyes on Seth for the first time, he stopped cold in the patio doorway and Seth had the vastly uncomfortable sensation of a spotlight being shined upon him yet again. He thought he was starting to get a bit of an idea of what Harry had been so relieved about.

"If you're done eyeballing the boy, Lupin," Snape said darkly, a firm irritation set on his face. "We should start determining exactly where to start this...endeavor."

Snape's eyes passed over Seth's and he felt a peculiar sensation roll over him. "What was that?" he asked nervously, backing into his chair a little as he felt his father move closer.

"He probably cast the Legilimens spell on you," Harry said sourly, giving Snape a hard look. "Maybe he wanted you to block it, but seeing as _neither one of us_ has ever had even the _theory_ of Legilimency or Occlumency--guarding your thoughts against it--explained to us, if your mind had a connection to Voldemort's like mine does, it would open up like a great gaping sore...festering, infection playing about like children upon a playscape. Or maybe insects upon a corpse would be a better metaphor. 'Fruitless endeavor', you should probably say. It'd be more precise, Professor."

Snape and Lupin were both staring at Harry now and Kirsten had come to stand behind him. Neither of them had ever heard Harry speak this way, with such eloquence...such darkness.

"Potter--" Snape began, but Harry interrupted, a sudden feeling of combined anger and shame falling over him.

"Didn't think I had enough brains to fill an eggcup, did you, Professor? What I don't get is why you took me away from my _spoiling, pampering_ Muggle relatives who kissed the ground the Cretin Who Lived to Make You Sick walked upon."

"What _I_ don't get, _Mr. Potter_, is why _if_ you are as intelligent as you are quite suddenly revealing yourself to be, what on earth stopped you from defending yourself against--"

"Why _on earth_ do you care?!" Harry yelled, the wand in his hand emitting a shower of yellow sparks. "All you've ever done is look at me and see my dad--I _know_ what he did to you, how it made you feel, why you hated him. I hate the Dursleys for the same reason! You don't care who I am, just that you can live out your revenge fantasies because my dad's dead and while I'd love more than anything to apologize to you for what he did, and to think that he'd apologize, and that Professor Lupin would _apologize_--" and here he shot a deeply discomfited Lupin a hard glare. "For not stopping him, I _can't_. I can't make up for what my father did, I can't make up for what Sirius did, I can't make up for the fact that no matter how hard I try--I can't block Voldemort or whatever _shadows_ there are of him in me out, I can't make up for any of it. And if it comes to that, if it comes to you _never wanting to set bloody eyes on me again if not for setting me afire, Professor,_ then please--stop doing whatever you've been doing for the past five--no, fourteen years. Because you took one look at me when I was eleven and decided I was my father and that, as far as I'm concerned, is the end of it. I can't change your mind and I'm tired of trying. Trying never gets anybody anywhere--come to think of it, protesting, apologizing, rationalizing, they've never gotten me anywhere. I give up. I don't want it anymore. Whatever you've got to say, go ahead, but you can take the message back with you to Dumbledore that I'm staying here. Don't bother writing Hermione, Luna, Ron, or Neville, I'll do it myself, but I'm transferring because I'm sick of being forced into or trying to fit a mold that was never made for me."

With that, Harry slipped out of Kirsten's increasing embrace and stalked off to his and Seth's bedroom. He flung himself onto his new bed and curled into a tight ball, willing himself not to cry. A short while later, he felt the side of his bed sag slightly as the new mattress bore the weight of an unknown follower. He refused to look, but they didn't leave.

_Pound my knuckles hard against the floor, my head against the wall, but I did this to myself...Assume it's just not worth getting back up and I'll blame it on bad luck, and I'll shake responsibility..._

...TBC...


	6. If You're Happy, You're Not Working Hard

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer:** Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea.

**Summary:** "Your--brother...is correct. He...my apologies would mean little to him, I have made certain of that. At this point it is a fairly astute assumption to believe myself no better than the...Dursleys. I...confess...I have been unfair."

**Fandoms:** AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One.

**Timeline:** The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I should specify that in order for the two lines to sync up, I moved the start of 'The O.C.' back to the beginning of the summer as opposed to near the end.

**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Hermione Granger or Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood (I think Harry's going to decide, looks like...), Seth Cohen/Anna Stern.

**Notes:** Okay so, apparently, Snape likes to talk. Who knew?

Part VI: If You're Happy, You're Not Working Hard Enough.

_...They all shy away...You always listen to me..._

Harry didn't know how long he lay curled up on his bed, but whoever was behind him, not speaking, didn't leave. Finally, he felt a heavy hand lay itself on the back of his head, ruffling his hair slightly. It was larger than Lupin's hand, so he knew the werewolf wasn't with him, and he could tell without even thinking that Snape would never do so even if Harry hadn't only just finished venting his spleen at him.

"You've been holding all that in for a long time, haven't you?" Sandy's quiet, still-unidentifiably accented voice asked over his head and Harry felt his breath leave him. "All that stuff you said to Professor Snape about how he's always looked at you? Or, rather, _didn't_?"

Harry shuddered, more tears leaking out of his eyes, and he took a deep breath, not answering.

"If you were going for shock value, I have to say, you certainly got it. They're both still in there and Snape, in particular, looks like he's been hit in the face."

Harry felt a swoop of something fall over him, the image of Snape's face one of the few times something unexpected happened in Harry's presence flashing through his mind's eye. It had been in the Shrieking Shack, right as Ron, Hermione, and himself had all drawn their wands, Stunning Snape. Right as their spells hit him, the look of shock in Snape's eyes had momentarily overshadowed the crazed vindication that had so recently clouded them. Harry hadn't understood Snape's deep-seated need for vindication back then, hadn't seen for himself the proof of the deep wounds that Dumbledore had spoken of to him the previous week. He did now, but it did nothing to assuage the anger that ran through him. He _knew_, somehow, that whatever he looked like, whatever his father had done, he, _Harry_ had done nothing to Professor Snape that warranted the invective unleashed upon him in class. _Nothing_ to deserve being snarled at like an animal that had soiled a prized rug. Snape hadn't cared and he was done. He'd said as much, hadn't he? So why did it all still feel so bad? He'd let go of it, hadn't he?

"You shouldn't go to sleep right away," Sandy's voice told him overhead, his hand moving down to rest on Harry's shoulder and giving it a faint squeeze. "Going to sleep angry is never a good idea. Sort of like that superstition about eating Chinese food...or whatever it is...before bed. Strange dreams, nightmares. That kind of thing."

Harry watched with blurry, tearing eyes as his new .mp3 player was placed beside him. Seth had taken the liberty of loading hundreds of songs onto it earlier in the day, refusing to tell Harry about them. It was a surprise, he'd said. Harry sighed and rolled onto his back, glancing with uncertainty at his adoptive father before reaching for the earbuds and putting them on. Sandy gave him a wide smile and stood, ruffling Harry's hair one more time before leaving.

As more of a precaution than anything else, Harry turned the volume dial down before pressing **PLAY** on the iPod he'd been given. Instantly, he was glad he did because the song that immediately started most certainly would have ruptured his eardrums if he'd played it at the previous volume. At least that's what Harry believed.

_That's the start, the middle, and the end...Aren't you glad the universe pretends...If I don't get this message home...Once again, I'm going to hate alone..._

Seth backed away from Professor Snape, the wand he'd had slipped in his pocket now gripped in his hand and pointed at Professor Snape.

"Wow. Incentive to learn a _really_ good curse and use it on you," he spat, glaring at the shocked wizard who was still staring at where his brother had stomped out of the kitchen. "Do I look like my bio-dad, too? Want to tell me what an idiot I turned out to be--wait, what was it Harry said you always say?" He pretended to think, cocking his head to the side. "Oh, yeah--arrogant, foolhardy, rash, strutting around Hogwarts like he owned the place? Well, Harry says he _did_ and that our godfather did, too, and Lily Evans wouldn't have anything to do with James Potter until he stopped. Judging from the fact that Harry and I both exist, I'd say he wised up. Or, at least, he wasn't so freaking _obvious_ about it. You, on the other hand, I can't say the same for, can I?"

Snape stood completely still, his widened eyes now trained directly on this other boy, this unknown Potter. _His_ godson. _Harry_ Potter seemed to have missed that part of Dumbledore's reading in Black's will, but he remembered it perfectly. Just as his memory can recall the shape of Potter's eyes, the color, there in this angered face. A flash of rage shot through him and he imagined black-rimmed glasses and an entitled sneer to go with the eyes and the rancorous spells thrown at him like arrows, but a shock ricocheted through his brain and he was forced to see that without glasses, without the straight black hair, this boy--Seth...didn't resemble James Potter very much at all beyond his eyes. The shape of his face, in fact, was mirrored, he realized, in...in Harry's...and in Lily's. Here, in the bright light of this kitchen and the heated shame of his public dressing-down, it was entirely unmistakable. Seth Potter-Cohen was, after all, his brother's twin and though they didn't share very many physical attributes like the Weasley spawn, they certainly shared personality traits. He didn't need the needle of remorse stabbing him in the back to know from whom they'd most likely been passed down.

"I..." Snape faltered, resisting the urge to run his hand through his hair, the memory of that stupid parchment insulting him before his and...Harry Potter's eyes flashing through his mind, try as he might suppress it.

**Tell him to wash his hair, the slimeball.**

He gritted his teeth and shook his head furiously to dispel the memory. It certainly would do him no good now. _Dear God, Lily...I'm...sorry..._ He pulled his eyes away from the floor and looked at the boy standing before him. The first words out of his mouth were not planned and he could have kicked himself if he'd had the hindsight to Transfigure himself a third leg.

"Black wasn't--isn't your godfather, I am."

Seth's eyes widened, as did Kirsten Cohen's and Ryan Atwood's, both of whom were now staring at him with thoroughly incredulous expressions. He flinched visibly and found himself giving into the temptation to run his hand through his hair. He took a deep breath.

"Look, Potter--Cohen...I..." he clenched his eyes shut and opened them, letting the glare of the lights overhead burn his retinas. He deserved it. "Your--brother...is correct. He...my apologies would mean little to him, I have made certain of that. At this point it is a fairly astute assumption to believe myself no better than the...Dursleys. I...confess...I have been unfair."

Seth snorted and Snape frowned before pressing himself to go on. He deserved this skepticism and he knew that. "I make no excuses for my treatment of your brother, nor most of his friends, as you will probably meet them before long. The headmaster asked me to pass along the message that they have received a certain amount of information about the previous few days' events, but for now that is neither here nor there. The point, Mr. Potter-Cohen, is that...your brother is correct. You have no cause to believe anything I say, for we do not know one another and my reactions to your brother's...revelations are unavoidably bare to be seen. I have no right to ask his forgiveness, nor to expect it. I certainly do not expect you to harbor anything other than great disdain for me at any point beyond this moment..."

Snape took a deep breath, looking upward again for a moment before forcing himself to meet those eyes again, perfect replicas of those he'd hated for so long. "But I was entrusted not only with your safety but that of your brother's and while I did not do anything to gain the trust of either of you, nor do I wish for it because in reality it would put both of you in far more danger than it would ever put myself, if you can believe that, I never realized that anything I told your brother was ever absorbed--not," he said, cutting off the barb he knew to be forthcoming, raising his hand to forestall the boys' mother further in her defensive objections. "Because I believed him to be stupid--but because I did not know that he would take to heart anything I said to him. As I intimated to your parents once you and your brothers abdicated to the hospital wing, I did not know that--Harry's mental state was as such, that he had been trained from a very young age not to believe he had any self-worth nor that any adult whom he approached for help would ever oblige him any. I thought him a spoilt, pampered little princeling whose every whim had been delightfully catered to as any in the wizarding community would happily have done, seeing him their savior as they do and have done since before either of you were old enough to remember. Yes, _you_ have been well-taken care of. H...Harry was not. Never did I dream of the sheer enormity--his mistreatment and neglect were a...I did not expect anything the likes of which I discovered would happen to him, nor that he would be sunken into such depths of conditioning that he forgets the very idea of defending himself when confronted by your despicable uncle or cousin. Your aunt, as well, on occasion. Though I ought to have remembered that."

Snape turned bitterly away, memories of Lily's tears as she related how her sister had so cruelly rejected her out of sheer jealousy. Through the curtain of his lank hair, Snape could see the werewolf's hands balled into fists. Ironic, really, that they should both feel so similarly upon a subject that each had such different perspectives on.

"Your brother does not know this--I expect you'll tell him soon enough, but when your--Lily and I were children, we lived near one another. I have known your aunt longer than your--Lily simply because she is still alive and we have never seen eye to eye on a single thing...except Lily...once. As Dumbledore told your parents, it was hoped that she would remember the love she once held for her sister, before jealousy of our world--one she could never be a part of--a fact I was thoroughly glad...perhaps too robustly so--tore them apart. It was hoped that she would see her sister in...Harry...and remember that he was an Evans, far more than that brutish lout she calls a son, and understand this about him. But she did not. We are alike in that respect, loath as I am to admit it."

He looked at Lupin, then, who had paled considerably throughout Snape's monologue. "We have to teach them, for their own safety. Because they do not owe us anything and because they are the only links to those we loved so dearly. If we cannot forgive, let us call a truce, for an impasse would harm them far more than either of us. I promised Lily as Black promised Potter that I would protect her sons and so far, I have failed. It is only fair--only reasonable that I at least make an honest attempt to rectify my past injustices and...allow you to do the same. We cannot do well by them--as we should have--otherwise."

Lupin watched him for a moment, nodding stiffly then, before reaching out a hand and grasping Snape's own.

"I'm sorry I never lived up to the responsibilities of my position of authority," Lupin's quiet, hoarse voice sounded and Snape bit the inside of his lower lip before nodding.

"I am sorry I have flouted mine at the expense of Mr. Potter--may Lily...and...James...forgive us both."

_...When I do wrong, I am with God, she thought..._

Snape and Lupin both turned to fully face the Cohen family, Snape noting an expression upon his godson's face that he could not interpret. "I shall deliver Mr.--Harry's wishes to be withdrawn from Hogwarts and, I suppose, continue his study alongside yourself, Seth--" he fumbled a bit on his conclusion, but pulled himself together. "If it is your wish, Professor Lupin and I shall each train you to the best of your ability. In the event Harry...consents, as well, we will teach him."

Snape took a deep breath, "The spell I cast upon your person when I first arrived was not the Legilimency spell, as your brother believed. It is far more than my life's worth, let alone my occupation for Albus Dumbledore to find out that I have performed that spell upon a student without clearance--and he would certainly have done--and I am loath to provoke his temper. If you are as quick of learning as I admit your brother to be in most respects then you will discover soon enough which spell I cast upon you. I will perform an assessment test along with Lupin when a week is up to see what style of learning you employ and how you retain information. At this present time, I will merely leave you with the same list of courses your brother has taken in the past five years including those that become optional after both third and fifth year-levels. Since you are not being formally schooled, there is no limit to the number of subjects that you may carry, but I will tell you that O.W.L. level testing requirement for those who opt out of Hogwarts is at least seven subjects. N.E.W.T. level is five at minimum. Whichever subjects you pursue, I will expect nothing less than the best of your ability. The headmaster has told both Lupin and myself that you currently carry Muggle subjects well above your current class level. It is with this in mind that we...encourage you to gauge best for yourself where your capabilities lie. We shall continue henceforth."

With that, Snape turned on his heel and walked out of the patio doors. In the darkness beyond, they heard the crack of Apparition.

Seth took a breath, himself, and looked at Professor Lupin. "I don't suppose you'll tell me what O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. stand for, out of sheer curiosity?"

Lupin gave him a sad smile and shook his head to himself. "Ordinary Wizarding Levels and Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. Harry has already taken the O.W.L.s, himself, and did quite well. I expect he'll be pleased with his results if the merry twinkle in Professor Dumbledore's eyes was any indication. Perhaps Severus may even be in for a shock. At any rate, Dumbledore will have to contend with Harry's decision to leave formal schooling. I expect that Molly Weasley won't be happy to hear about it, either, but perhaps we'll be able to convince her that he's not quitting learning altogether. She told him last year that he was as good as a son to her, you see, and she will probably react as though one of her own sons simply quit--though, really, Fred and George _did_ just that. Perhaps they've taken the brunt of her ferocity. We'll soon find out. I will write Harry, myself, in the coming days--to apologize for my part in Severus' rightful temper with me. It's the very least I owe him. Goodnight, Seth. It was...indescribable to see you again, to put it mildly, though I wish more than I can say that I could have shown you a better example for model of behavior. I hope to make that up to you, as well."

Seth nodded, and Lupin gave a wave of farewell at those still assembled in the kitchen before following Snape's steps outside and Apparating away, himself.

_...I'm so much older than I can take and my affection, well, it comes and goes...I need direction to perfection..._

...TBC...


	7. United, We're Unstoppable, but Divided

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer:** Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea. Salinger owns the quote that inspired the mix Harry was listening to. Lyrics are from various sources, usually music I'm listening to while writing but this time that isn't entirely the case.

**Summary:** It almost stopped him in his tracks to realize he'd _forgotten_ how to care anything for himself and this time, Kirsten's words and his own came back to him...

**Fandoms:** AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One.

**Timeline:** The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I should specify that in order for the two lines to sync up, I moved the start of 'The O.C.' back to the beginning of the summer as opposed to near the end.

**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Hermione Granger or Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood (I think Harry's going to decide, looks like...), Seth Cohen/Anna Stern.

**Notes:** Okay, I started this chapter out one way but didn't like where it was going and it got hard to write. I'm trying to let the story write itself and it wasn't doing that.

Part VII: United, We're Unstoppable, but Divided, it's Like...

When Seth returned to his and Harry's room, he found his brother curled up on his bed with the iPod he'd loaded with all the best his music collection had to offer -- most of which he was beyond positive Harry wouldn't be able to identify without help -- he found a bit of a smile coming to his face. He'd labeled the mix on his hard drive, calling it _Gasoline Rainbows_. He's been rereading Salinger and for some reason that two-line passage had struck a chord within him. It sounded beautiful and if there was anything he was certain of after climbing out of that Pensieve in Professor Dumbledore's office, it was that his brother deserved to hear something beautiful for once. Ryan, too, but that might prove to be a bit more of a challenge. It was a good thing that he had the summer to work out how to surprise them both adequately.

Shaking his head slightly, Seth reached down, turned the .mp3 player off, and went over to his dresser drawers to began changing into his pajamas as quietly as he could. Part of him wanted to get more headway into The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two, but there was also summer reading for his actual school to do, as well.

Dilemmas, dilemmas. He sighed and shelved both for now, deciding to get a little more practice actually using his wand. He had to find a spell that wouldn't create light or any loud noises that would wake Harry. He glanced at Hedwig's perch over by the window and wondered if either the owl or his brother would mind if he attempted Transfiguring it into something else. Nah, he better not risk it.

If he couldn't return it to its original state, he was screwed. Sighing, he closed his eyes and pointed randomly. Opening them, he found the wand's tip pointed at one of his new cloaks hanging on the hooks behind their door. Harry's, he knew, were locked securely in his wardrobe so he didn't have to worry about accidentally screwing up something that wasn't his.

He frowned, narrowing his eyes and giving the cloak a good once-over. Flicking his wand, he saw a flash of pale blue light leave his wand and snake across the room before hitting the cloak and causing it to begin rippling. It changed into a tri-cornered hat with a feather and Seth found himself holding back chuckles. "_Finite Incantatem!_", he muttered and the cloak resumed its original shape.

Across the room, Harry slept on and Seth lay back with a smile on his face, wondering how this year could possibly get any better.

_...I'm not ashamed but I'm trying, I've come to expect the standards you have set..._

Harry rolled over and blinked at the bright sunlight streaming in through his and Seth's bedroom window. How he'd managed to sleep this long, he didn't know, but...well, it felt nice, to be perfectly honest. Even during the summer holidays, when Dudley had been allowed to laze about, doing as he pleased just like the rest of the year, it had still been expected of Harry to get up and get out of the house as early as possible so as to spare the Dursleys the sight of him. He hadn't minded, really. It had the added benefit of saving him dealing with them, as well. He looked over and glanced at the new alarm clock sitting on his nightstand, announcing that it was nearly afternoon. He was shocked, as he'd never slept so late in his life -- not even at Hogwarts in the late of term -- but...he was still so tired and, truth be told, his bandaged body was still quite sore, even though his new family had pretty much mandated that he not do anything remotely considered heavy lifting until Madam Pomfrey declared that he was fit and healthy again.

He'd been here for three days, he recognized, and not once had anyone shouted at him, called him names, or tried to do anything painful at all to him. It was like being at the Weasleys', only...only, he realized, this was _his_ home. He lay back on his bed, smiling up at the Irish National Quidditch team poster he'd tacked up overhead. Seth had watched the recording left over from his Omnioculars of the World Cup a year and a half before and had been amazed, asking Harry about the Seekers, Aidan Lynch and Viktor Krum, once the game had ended. Harry had only met Viktor, of course, and readily told Seth about how shy, awkward, and, well, _normal_ he'd been off the Quidditch pitch. He promised his brother he'd teach him the rules of Quidditch and decided that if his friends took Sandy and Kirsten up on their offer, then they'd go back to the knoll where Seth had ridden his Firebolt and play three-a-side or so for a while. He looked forward to it.

With that thought in mind, Harry sat up and stretched gingerly, glad for the waterproofing and adhesive charms on his bandages as he headed into his and Seth's bathroom to shower. His brother rolled over in the other bed and buried his head under the covers to escape the brightness threatening to awaken him. Harry smiled for what felt like the billionth time.

***

Petunia cowered and screamed as she watched Vernon being tortured on the filthy floor before her. She tried in vain to shield Dudley from the sight, but it was all she could do to keep him from seeing properly. He'd always been bigger than she was and now his height only made things worse. Vernon's voice was gone from screaming, his mouth leaking blood as one of the masked men before her -- or was it the woman, she certainly liked her fair share and had threatened Dudley in more ways than one –- raised his...wand and Vernon's body fell to the ground with a dull thud.

Before she could stop, Petunia flung herself up and made an attempt to get to him. There was a gale of wind throughout the cold, filthy stone room they were in and a flash of green light. The last thing she heard was the sound of Dudley's voice.

_"Mu--!"_

_...So when you ask 'is something wrong?' I think, 'you're damned right, there is, but we can't talk about it now...no, we can't talk about it now'..._

Seth stared at Harry's still form as he listened to Remus Lupin's head in their fireplace describing how their aunt had died. Something called the Order of the Phoenix had managed to find them, but by then it had been too late for her. They'd managed to get Vernon and Dudley Dursley out of a fetid, moldering house with an ancient snakeskin, the remains of a linear skeleton scattered beneath it, hanging on the front door. Petunia, though, had been murdered by the Killing Curse before they could reach them. Vernon was in St. Mungo's with massive physical and psychological damage done by the Cruciatus Curse someone named Lucius Malfoy had used on him, but their cousin, Dudley had managed to escape largely unharmed. He'd been given Calming and Restorative Draughts by the Healers and released into the custody of the Aurors to be taken to his aunt, Marge's home in the countryside as soon as it was safe. It was only Dumbledore's urgent request that kept the Obliviators from being summoned.

At these words, Harry looked upward, his fists balled at his sides, and shouted at Lupin's head in the fire, "They'll just kill her, too! And Dudley'll have to watch all over again -- he's a right bastard, certainly, but no one deserves to watch their family murdered in front of them one by one! If you send Dudley to Au --"

He paused for a second, mastering himself, before continuing, "If you let the Aurors send Dudley to Marge Dursley's house, you'll be finding her corpse in the morning and probably his, too."

Lupin's head sighed and Seth watched the light eyes consider something. "What do you suggest I ask of Professor Dumbledore, Harry?"

"Ask –- " Seth noticed that Harry hesitated again before glancing at Kirsten and Sandy, who were gathered with Harry, himself, and Ryan around the fireplace to hear unwelcome and terrifying news that no one had wanted. "Kirsten works in real estate for her...our -- her dad's company. They sell houses. We could have it arranged that Uncle Vernon and Dudley move here and...the Order could pay for them to have a house here in Newport. Hermione and I worked out that the protective charms Mum gave us should have extended to the boundary of Little Whinging, so they'd surround Newport, too. The Death Eaters wouldn't be able to hurt anyone here as long as I live here and I...well, I already call this place home, so the wards are ready and in place. Are..."

Harry glanced back at Kirsten, who gripped his shoulder and nodded at him. "Are there houses empty here that you haven't sold yet? I'd pay -- "

"No way," Sandy cut him off with a wave of his hand and the likewise motion of his head. "You're not using the money your birth parents left you both to buy any houses you won't be living in and don't ask me anything about the exchange rate, Harry. That money is for you and Seth, not them. We'll find a way to get them here without dipping into your Gringotts' accounts."

Lupin seemed to turn his head around to ask an unseen person about the idea before turning back to the Cohen family living room. "The Order will furnish the Galleons and they'll be converted into the American dollars necessary to buy your relatives a house in California if...Harry, are you sure you're comfortable with this?"

"It doesn't matter if I'm comfortable -- "

"Yes, it most certainly does," Kirsten interjected, turning Harry to face her. "Harry, the only way we'd be willing to facilitate this is if your uncle and cousin aren't permitted to lay a hand on either you or Seth. You went up against those Ministry people after _one of them_ sent some creature after you -- if they're willing to violate their own laws just so they can say they're doing something about this monster then, no, we won't allow it. You have to be allowed to defend yourself if it's necessary and both Dudley and Vernon Dursley have to have some legal -- magical or otherwise -- repercussions if they try anything."

Seth watched Harry deflate momentarily before nodding, "Well...they won't be living here and I don't see Dudley getting into the Harbor School even if Ryan and I get in. He hasn't tried to beat me up since I started Hogwarts because he's afraid of me. Uncle Vernon...well, he tried to have me put out of the house after the Dementors attacked Dudley and that's what he was going spare about when I came back after last term -- "

"So in other words, he can't be trusted to control himself anywhere near you," Sandy overrode, his heavy brow furrowing. "If he's given an inch to hurt you, he'll take a foot! He almost killed you, Harry!"Dad folded his arms and looked back at the fireplace, where Lupin's head was watching Harry mournfully. "We'll do this like Harry suggests, but if anything happens to either Harry or Seth at their hands -- anything at all -- you bet your ass we'll be filing criminal charges. I may be a public defense attorney, but I won't defend either of them and neither should any of you."

Lupin's head turned and he relayed Sandy's message. "Professor Dumbledore will be along later this evening, your time, to bring the Dursley fellows to Newport. By this time, a house will have been secured and magically reinforced with protection for them."

Harry ran both hands through his hair, a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding wooshing out of his chest. Dudley and Uncle Vernon would be safe from the Death Eaters. He looked back at the fireplace to find Lupin's sad-eyed head watching him. He looked down at his sandaled feet for a moment before meeting Lupin's eyes. "How many hours until the Portkeys are activated?"

"They're being given about four hours to settle your uncle's affairs -- the drill company he works for is being apprised of his situation and he's been 'encouraged' to take early retirement."

Harry scoffed openly, "Right, like he could go back to Surrey after what the Death Eaters have done." He then scowled, his tone seething with sarcasm. "If they were Muggle attackers some kind of therapy would be given in hospital but since they're just _stupid Muggles_, the Ministry's not going to do a thing for them. The Death Eaters don't play around, Remus, you know that -- "

Harry turned away from the fireplace and looked at his foster parents again. "They're going to need therapy of some kind -- the magical world doesn't seem to know what psychiatry is. I've never gotten any sort of counseling after they've done anything to me -- nor was I given any when I first got to Hogwarts. Hagrid didn't think to realize I'd been raised by Muggles and didn't know what I was doing so I know it didn't occur to him that they may have hurt me and I needed to talk to an unbiased...anyone. He means well, Hagrid, but he's not very good at empathizing with situations he hasn't been in and from what he's told me, his dad was brilliant."

Kirsten nodded, understanding, "Harry, we'll talk to your uncle and cousin ourselves when they arrive -- assess the damage that's been done to them and _then_ try to set them up in counseling here that will address both what's been done to them and what's been done to _you_. That's just as important and if you're going to have a healthy adulthood, then at least trying to resolve your problems with the Dursleys is certainly paramount."

Harry nodded back, looking at Lupin once again and finding the werewolf looking stricken. "Harry, I..." An invisible hand seemed to run through Lupin's hair and his eyes wouldn't come up to meet Harry's. "We need to talk -- and not only about your education. Soon."

"You'll owl me?" Harry asked quietly, trailing a hand along the couch beside him.

"No!" Lupin said hurriedly, biting his lip. "When...when Severus and I return to set yours and Seth's course schedules, we'll talk. In the meantime, why don't you write your mates and...and..."

Seth watched as Lupin struggled not to choke on his own foot and cut him off, "Okay -- Mr. Lupin -- um, we've got to get things set up here so why don't you and your Order buddies get our cousin and uncle set up for whatever you're going to do to get them here and we'll see you when you come back?"

Lupin seemed ready to say something, but stopped himself before nodding to the room at large and disappearing.

"So what happens now?" Seth asked, raising a hand and turning to look at his parents and brothers. Kirsten started abruptly and went to grab the phone lying on the living room table. "I've got to make some calls -- start getting things set up. Seth, you had that sailing lesson with Chester you were supposed to give him this afternoon -- call his parents and tell him you're not going to make it today."

"There's no reason to do that -- the boys all need to find ways to keep occupied for a couple of hours until Dudley and his father get here." Sandy ran a hand through his hair. "Why shouldn't Seth go down to the beach? Harry and Ryan can go with him, you know -- swim in the ocean for a while."

"You did guys did notice it was raining, right?" Ryan asked, glancing at what was certainly a downpour outside.

"Guess the atmosphere did you a solid -- or not," Sandy proposed, running a hand over Seth's head. "Maybe you three can go study -- Seth, Harry can maybe lend you his notes or something?"

Harry snorted and the three of them started walking, "Hermione has told me in no uncertain terms that my handwriting isn't fit for human consumption. I wasn't aware humans ate calligraphy, but perhaps I'm wrong."

"Well, you can type them out, can't you?" Kirsten needled gently, smiling at him and nudging him toward his and Seth's bedroom. "You've got that new computer and everything."

"Yeah, I guess that'd work -- Seth, if you and Ryan feel like looking at my textbooks, you can. I mean, Hermione considers the entirety of the upper years' curriculum _light reading_, but..."

"Dude, define 'upper years'..."

_...I don't want to be there when you're comin' down...I don't want to be there when you hit the ground..._

Harry sat on the floor with every new as well as old book he now owned stacked around him, loading them one by one into his new bookcase. Ryan leaned against the foot of Harry's bed, rolling the deactivated Snitch Harry had brought home from Hogwarts back and forth between his hands. Seth lay on the floor practicing Levitating random objects around the room, muttering the incantation under his breath and getting used to the wand movement required. It was a lot more difficult to actually cast the spells than he'd originally thought. Some of what he'd already practiced was getting easier, but actually performing the magic was more difficult than he'd thought. Three years of French had helped as far as pronouncing the syllables of incantations correctly, but applying that in tune with various wand movements for different types of spells was difficult in and of itself. He'd mixed up the wand movements for what Harry told him was a propulsion spell, thinking it was the movement for levitation. He'd been irritated at first but then Harry told him about the lines his friend Seamus had been made to write the previous year by a Professor Flitwick regarding being cautious with wand safety: **I am a wizard, not a baboon brandishing a stick.**

He certainly had to admit he didn't much look forward to learning how to use a quill after being devoted to ball-point ink for most of his academic career. Giving up levitation for the time being, Seth got up and turned on his Macintosh monitor, glancing at Harry and saying, "So, Harry, dude -- lemme see those notes you told me about. They can't be that bad. I can type them for now and I guess you can learn how while using your abomination -- pardon, your _pee-see_."

Ryan chuckled as Harry looked back at his brother and rolled his eyes in a good natured fashion. "Seth, will you belt up? They're both computers. I'm not getting sucked into your 'my computer can kick your computer's bum' mania. You sound as bad as my mate Ron talking about anything Muggle-made -- he mangles the words. Honestly, we're going to have our hands full if he comes here and meets anyone. If we don't get a letter from the Ministry about his violating the Statute, I'll be dead -- " he trailed off before saying something else he wasn't quite sure his brothers would understand. He hadn't realized the amount of slang he and Ron -- Hermione, less so -- used on an everyday basis until he'd had to explain what he meant no less than ten times over the previous few days.

"I'd be shocked if Ron didn't have an owl from the Ministry after he got here. He's not at all big on remembering what Hermione and I tell him about having been raised by Muggles. When he first called my old house after our second year, he yelled into the phone as though he and Uncle Vernon were standing at the opposite ends of a rugby field. Blimey, I got it for that -- 'How _dare_ you give this number to people -- people like _you_!'"

"Nice," Ryan retorted, shooting Harry a slightly disbelieving look.

Seth frowned, tilting his head to the side, "Dude, how are you even, like, not a sociopath after living with people who are active hobbyists in the field of hatred -- and are _related_ to us?" But Seth didn't give Harry a chance to answer, instead turning and getting up, beginning to pace around the room. "And who are coming here -- to live -- because, really, this place wasn't hell enough for me -- no, let's bring a xenophobic uncle and cousin here who _really_ hate magic and tell them I exist -- life just wasn't lonely enough -- "

"Seth," Harry cut him off, clapping hands firmly on his brother's shoulders. "Dudley's been afraid of me since before I started Hogwarts and I'm certainly not afraid of him anymore. He thinks I'm going to give him a tail like Hagrid did that night on the sea. At any rate, he hasn't done anything to me since I was eleven and actually..." Harry looked at the floor and considered his words for a moment. "He hasn't really tried _anything_ with me in years. I haven't even spoken to him this summer so I don't even know what's gone on with him. Uncle Vernon tried to hurt me, but Dudley wasn't there and neither was Aunt Petunia. She'd taken him into town for something. I'm not saying we'll be mates or anything, but he's probably not going to do anything to you -- and he doesn't have his gang here to take orders from him. Luke and those other twits will probably make his life just as miserable as they've made ours. I...I can't believe I'm saying this, but we might even end up helping him against them."

"I thought you said he was into boxing, man," Seth objected, folding his arms and Harry shrugged, "Yeah, but right when I got back to Privet Drive, he actually had gotten into trouble with Aunt Petunia -- he'd managed to hide his marks from her and Uncle Vernon for most of his time at Smeltings, but he couldn't keep it up forever. They expelled him. I heard Uncle Vernon going spare about it before he left that day. Dudley didn't say a word. He only ate, from what I could see, when Aunt Petunia made him. She'd pretty much marooned him in the parlor because I think she was afraid to leave him alone. I don't know what the Dementors made him see last year but I don't think he's ever gotten over it and _now_ he's got being kidnapped and tortured to deal with, too. I think him beating us up is going to be the last thing on his mind. I know I'm not wild about fighting yet again when I get -- got home. We..." Harry frowned thoughtfully and considered their options. "We really just have to wait and see."

_...'Cause I'm a loser...You're holding the rope and I'm taking the fall..._

Harry spent the weekend before certain consignment to bed being given a tour of Newport by Seth, Ryan, and their friends. The night of Dudley and Uncle Vernon's arrival had been interceded with arrangements about Harry's upcoming habitation in Newport and, according to Seth, where he'd fit in. A large part of him had given up caring about that a long time ago, but if worse came to worst, he knew he was good at pretending. It had been so easy, all this time, folding himself into the roles everyone around him had wanted -- this wouldn't be any different.

Something inside him had been deeply disappointed. He'd hoped never to have to act or improvise again and it seemed that here, nothing was different. Harry kicked himself for being surprised -- why should anything have been different? He reasoned, automatically forcing his face into a blank mask. Really, he should have known better. New places didn't always mean new rules.

Still, Sandy and Seth's words to him echoed through his head even now. _You're not some Boy-Who-Lived, here...This will always be your home, even when Hogwarts can't be..._

Harry sighed inwardly and resolved simply to watch, something he'd noticed Ryan did, often, as well. He felt strange, as though he were closer to Ryan than Seth, despite the latter being his twin. He almost felt it was unfair to Seth -- after all, his brother certainly hadn't asked for any of this any more than either Harry or Ryan had. He couldn't ignore his feelings, though, inexplicable as they may have been. So, he decided in the end, he would bide his time -- watch and learn as he had everywhere else in his life, learn to live accordingly.

'Act' hadn't been appropriate, really -- it was all he'd ever done. Act and obey. He didn't think he could hold out much longer, but that was where the problem began, really. He'd spent so long in roles, he hardly knew who he, himself, was anymore. If he wasn't the Dursleys' or Snape's whipping boy, Dumbledore's unwitting puppet (as honorable and benign as Dumbledore's intentions were, he couldn't seem to help himself using those around him to achieve his own ends -- Harry often wondered the truth behind whether or not Dumbledore had actually been in Gryffindor House when Slytherin seemed so much more appropriate) then who was he? And, on that note, now Harry wondered what sort of spanner he had inevitably thrown in Dumbledore's plans by dropping out of Hogwarts. Even more, he hated that he cared. He was being honest with himself and that meant confronting that he had no idea who the hell _Harry Potter_ truly was. Harry suppressed a scowl and watched as the others drifted lazily ahead, all occupied by slices of pizza they'd bought from a stand a while back. He dug his hands into his pockets, stared at the concrete below his new shoes, and allowed his thoughts free reign.

**Fact one:** he knew what he enjoyed doing when left to his own devices.

**Fact two:** he knew what was expected of him in various settings depending on what amounted to his masters.

**Fact three:** Harry knew who he was _not_ -- being James Potter or Sirius Black, shameless bullies and general arseholes extraordinaire to those they disliked for whatever reasons.

Snape had, in his own way, been reduced to the very same in the years after they'd all parted ways. Harry supposed, when he gave it thought, that he could understand the unconscious pull sudden control over subordinates of any kind could have over a person -- that he could ever willingly do such a thing himself, however, pulled a frown back to his face. That decision was simple -- his free will and that of others mattered far too much for him to supplant it with any ideas of dominance or superiority. That counted with Dumbledore, as well, he noted, mentally ticking his name on the list a second time.

That left Lily Evans, whom he knew even less about. Everyone, particularly Sirius, had always been so preoccupied by Harry's resemblance to James that Lily had been eclipsed, overshadowed. The closest thing he'd received to information had been when Ollivander mentioned her wand had been tailored toward Charms. The awards in the halls had born James' names, not hers.

Harry stopped in his tracks, frowning to himself. He would make one last Owl-Order to Diagon Alley to supplement what he'd bought while with the Cohens and Ryan days before. He knew Flourish and Blotts would most likely package books about his and Seth's father, as well, but Harry could always save those for last or (and here, he unknowingly gave a small smile) forgo them altogether. Let James see how it felt, being slighted and shunted aside for once.

His mind made up, Harry quickened his pace, catching up to the others and gageing their conversation to decide when to jump in -- until he realized they were discussing some American band or something he'd never heard of. They didn't need his input and, strangely, it was interesting just to watch them all together with Seth, Ryan, and Anna presenting a united front against Summer and Marissa's tastes that he didn't think any of them were actually aware of. He suddenly understood why Luna and Neville each seemed content to merely drift along (or, in Neville's case, avoid danger, which he could definitely relate to), simply taking everything in -- intervening only when it was important.

There was suddenly a lighter feeling in his stomach he couldn't name, realizing that he didn't have to carry something or take charge.

Little did he know, it was overwhelming relief.

_They gave me a life that's not so easy to live and then they sent me on my way...I've left my love and forgot my dreams, I lost them all along the way..._

It had been a bit awkward, being introduced to Marissa Cooper, Summer Roberts, and Anna Stern in person but it had helped that Kirsten and Sandy had invited the three of them, as well as Marissa and her younger sister's father, Jimmy, over for dinner to explain as much as they'd been able to. Summer had been the most difficult to get used to, he'd found right away -- her habitual disdain for anyone who wasn't from Newport hadn't boded well for their first introduction, though for some reason she'd brightened considerably when she'd heard his voice during his introduction.

"You could have told me he was British, Coop," Summer had needled, elbowing Marissa, who'd given her an affronted look in return.

"You're forgetting that I've never met him, either, and that'd be like saying I knew Seth was -- " they had then both given Seth wide-eyed stares, at which he'd pointedly rolled his eyes.

"Yes, apparently, I'm British-born," Seth had sniped irritably, a scowl momentarily marring his usually upbeat expression. "Can we get back to the matter at hand, by any chance?"

Summer had given him a look Harry had been unable to interpret and Seth rolled his eyes again. "My point is that since Harry's sent the message to his old school that he's not coming back and, hence, is staying here with us, he needs to know his way around. Plus, our cousin and uncle will be here in less than an hour and we need to get out of here because I, for one, don't want to meet them."

Harry had heard the unspoken words about neither Dudley nor Uncle Vernon wanting at all to meet him, either, and waited patiently as Seth had picked up his skateboard while Ryan had unchained his bicycle from a post in the back garden before they'd walked out to meet the girls at the end of the Cohens' driveway.

He was grateful they didn't seem in a hurry to pull either he or Ryan into conversation about anything in particular as it gave him a chance to take note of various landmarks and other minutiae. He hadn't realized how much he missed being able to think instead of constantly being forced to react. The Dursleys, Snape, Voldemort -- they'd all snatched the upper hand as soon as they'd been able and Harry had forgotten so many things, he was floored by how little he could recall of whatever he'd once been. It never occurred to him to understand that a small child didn't particularly have a 'self' to be conscious about, but his embarrassment was there all the same. He watched the others, even Ryan, who was doing much of what he was, a niggling sensation of wrongness pervading his mind. It felt downright odd to be doing so much contemplating, so much introspection and observance. Harry didn't understand why the feeling was there, just that equally strongly he wondered why it felt so wrong.

Returning to his earlier thoughts on his childhood conditioning, Harry supposed that the will and enjoyment in thinking and consideration -- particularly toward himself and anything he may have wanted -- had been drilled out of him.

_...We stayed together out of fear of dying alone...I've been slipping through the years and my old clothes don't fit like they once did, so they hang like ghosts of the people I've been..._

It almost stopped him in his tracks to realize he'd _forgotten_ how to care anything for himself and this time, Kirsten's words and his own came back to him...

_"It doesn't matter if I'm comfortable -- "_

"Yes, it most certainly does!" Kirsten had responded with a vehemence that had taken him back at the time. Now, however, he began to understand.

Harry exhaled, fighting to tamp down the sudden heaviness in his chest, and removed his new glasses to make a show of pretending to clean them again. The backs of his eyes were burning again and he breathed deeply to resist crying, as well. There was nothing to cry about, he decided firmly, glancing up to make sure none of the others had noticed. There was only this problem -- not knowing himself anymore -- and the solution of trying anything that caught his fancy. Books, movies, even magical theories and concepts he'd previously dismissed. Harry inhaled again, fisting his hands at his sides. He had to be careful, he knew -- had to avoid stepping into the trap he now understood Snape, Dumbledore, his father, and Voldemort had all been felled by.

There was much to be gained by knowledge, he knew -- even that which had the potential to harm -- but it didn't do any good to know about Dark Magic if its effects and theories were ignored, as they largely were at Hogwarts, even for the older years who, by then, were used to the avoidance and simply preferred not to take up the offer. The same went for Muggle subjects, he knew -- documentaries on wars fought all over the world had shown him time and time again that ignorance of aspects one wanted no part of only led to mistakes of equal or larger magnitude. He could learn all the theory in the world, he knew, thinking of Hermione's nearly indecent fondness for books and how she'd been forced to learn from Umbridge that they hadn't taught everything, only recording and translating other people's biases and lies. That was hardly a path he wanted any of them to follow a second time if he could help it.

He thought, then, of Ron again and his other friend's perpetual inability to understand that if he didn't do his own work, he learned nothing and understood even less. He remembered Ron's recounting of their O.W.L.s and how he'd managed to mutate a dinner plate into a large toadstool and couldn't understand how. Harry remembered his own satisfaction when he'd successfully distracted Malfoy into dropping the wineglass he'd been meant to levitate.

The question was _why_ had he felt such satisfaction? Malfoy's mistake hadn't impacted his marks in any way. Malfoy's words earlier that his father had been matey with one of the examiners earlier had meant nothing -- it was Malfoy's usual bluster and never mind his talent. They'd all get their due when the results came back near his and Seth's birthdays. Not even worrying was going to change anything about it. It didn't even matter much, now, that he'd even taken the test -- it wasn't like his Hogwarts grades would be transferable to the Harbor Academy, if he got in. Nor would his classes, come to think of it. He knew that harnessing his magic was still very important for safety purposes, but it now seemed rather perplexing how little regard the Wizarding world gave for subjects that mattered a great deal. It was all well and good that a wizard could count and incant, but what of physical fitness? What of understanding the world around them?

Hagrid's class was derided as a waste of time, he knew, by the majority of wizardkind but Muggles had something like it so that students could become veterinarians. There were a lot more parts of different animals than there were parts of humans so the class could not be labeled completely useless no matter what anyone thought. History of Magic, which could have been worth something in the hands of a competent instructor, was instead devoted to seemingly endless goblin wars instead of more interesting (and rather more relevant) topics of possibly tracing the first wizard among mankind or something of that nature --

_"Harry!"_, Seth's voice cut into his thoughts and Harry started sharply, paling a bit in embarrassment. "Dude, out of curiosity, what planet are you on right now?"

Seth's grin wasn't mocking, though, and Harry felt himself loosen back up. The others were watching him curiously, now, too, but only Summer seemed derisive and he barely knew her and so cared particularly little.

Harry sighed and decided to tell a white lie, "I was just thinking about all the study I want to do this summer. I have loads of review and catch-up to do before I start whichever school I get into."

Seth made a dissatisfied face and lifted both indexes in front of his face again before gesturing toward both Harry and Ryan, "Uh, dude, no. I told Ryan and now I'm telling you -- I am not spending another year at that school alone. I'll work with Snape and Lupin by myself if I have to but whatever you need notes and books on, I've got -- you two can totally have 'em."

Harry smiled in a conciliatory gesture of his own. "You're already borrowing mine and Hermione's. It's only fair."

Seth grinned and stepped back to hook an arm around Harry's shoulder, forcing him to pick up his steps until the five of them were aligned. "Harry, it's like Mom said -- don't worry. You have your doctor's appointment tomorrow and then Snape and Lupin will come back and do whatever, but then we'll just -- " Seth paused and tapped his chin with his left index, slightly closing one eye. "Well, no, _I'll_ continue what I've always done because I have no life. _You_ get to figure out your own thing and go with that. Easy."

Harry snorted, "Old habits, Seth," he sighed, looking over at the ocean they were now passing. "I think I might remember how to swim from my fourth year," he noted quietly so only Seth could hear. "I mean, I had flippers and gills at the time, but it can't be that different, right?"

Seth choked back a convulsive laugh. "Uh, pro-probably not, dude, but I suggest you come up for air this time around."

Harry grinned. "I suppose I can save any trials for the pool at home. If I started to drown, it'd probably be a bit easier to save me there."

"Must you be so cynical?" Seth asked in a falsely pityingly tone and Harry, in return, faked a small pout.

"What, you don't like my winning personality? I'm hurt, Seth, really..."

Seth snorted this time and went to say something but Anna grabbed his hand, suddenly, to pull him forward again and all thought seemed wiped from his mind. Harry bit back a laugh as they turned back and headed home.

_...All of the things that I want to say just aren't coming out right...I'm tripping on words, you've got my head spinning, I don't know where to go from here..._

Even with advanced warning, Harry hadn't been prepared for the sight that awaited him when he was accompanied by the Cohens (he realized he should probably stop thinking of them that way since it was also the way he'd referred to the Dursleys, who hadn't given a damn about him but at the moment his mind was very much elsewhere) to Dudley and Uncle Vernon's new house several streets over from their own. Uncle Vernon was bedridden, it seemed, terribly pale, and his hands shook from nerve damage undoubtedly caused by prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse.

He couldn't speak intelligibly and Harry doubted he understood that Aunt Petunia had been killed. It was painful to see his uncle this way, no matter the treatment this man had meted out toward him his entire life. No one he felt, no matter how cruel, deserved to have their faculties stripped from them in such a manner. Unforgivable was unforgivable -- no exceptions.

Due to the nature of Uncle Vernon's injuries, it seemed, Professor Dumbledore had felt 'obligated' to appoint a Mediwitch to see to his every day care and, possibly, that of Dudley's as he no longer had parents who could actively care for him. Dudley, himself, was very obviously avoiding entering his father's new bedroom or speaking very much at all. When he first lay eyes on both Harry and Seth, he paled dangerously and passed out, much as he'd done the night in the previous summer when Dolores Umbridge had sent Dementors to Privet Drive. Frowning resolutely, Harry started to revive Dudley himself but instead allowed Kirsten to convince him to let Dudley come round on his own. He wasn't completely removed from the Wizarding world yet, they knew, and no one wanted to give the Ministry of Magic any chance to come swooping into Newport, as they'd take every opportunity to do if given half a chance.

Kneeling before the Cohens' fireplace again, Harry spoke very firmly to Professor Dumbledore, who had been on the point of attempting to persuade Harry to come back to Hogwarts -- surely, he'd... -- but whatever Dumbledore had been on the point of saying, Harry held up his hand and regained the right of way.

"Professor, we're not here to discuss my Hogwarts career. We're here to discuss my uncle gaining a trustworthy nurse to care for him and Dudley. I know them better than you do and I want to decide who'll care for them. They have to be Muggleborn, there's no other way. If I can't have that guarantee then you'll never hear from me again."

Professor Dumbledore stared at Harry for a full minute before replying. "Harry. You are angry with me, still, for Sirius' death -- I fully admit that that is my fault -- "

Harry wouldn't let his expression falter despite his continued embarrassment about his fit of rage the previous week. "I'm not finished, sir. I'm angry because no one in the Wizarding world truly wants to take responsibility for what they allow to happen. No one person, not even you, can be blamed for any of it. Even the Weasleys, a Light family, look down on Muggles -- it's not right, it's not earned, it's not fair, tit for tat, or any of that rubbish. I need to work through some things. I can't do that with everyone trying to decide who I'm supposed to be. The only master, as it were, I wish to serve is myself. And, no, that doesn't mean I plan to dive headlong into the Dark Arts. If you assume as much, you really don't know me any more than I know you -- which is very little, I realize."

It occurred to Harry that Professor Dumbledore seemed to be speechless. Gathering his nerve further, he took advantage of the rare silence of protest.

"Do you admit I don't actually owe anyone anything? Do you admit I'm just a person and not a weapon, not a tool? Snape, for all his overbearing nastiness, never forgot that I'm human -- I certainly hope you didn't."

"Harry, I..." Professor Dumbledore found himself casting around at the faces in the room before him, all of whom were riveted to his, awaiting an answer to Harry's question. He sighed heavily, a disjointed hand coming to partially cover his face. "Oh, dear Harry, I _never_ meant to make you believe any such thing."

Harry let out the breath he'd been holding, the tightness in his chest loosening itself. "Why did you split Seth and I up?"

Dumbledore's face came abruptly back into full view and Harry felt his twin land heavily next to him, clearly as apprehensive of the answer as he was.

Dumbledore was hesitant in his answer, but gave one nonetheless, "I was worried that given the chance to grow up alongside your brother, there might be untoward rivalry -- feelings of inadequacy or ineptitude fostered by your defeat of Voldemort whereas Seth had no foreseeable role to play. I did not want the pair of you to hate one another, should you ever meet -- circumstances dictated you may eventually and I didn't wish to add further distress to already tense bearing."

Beside him, Seth's body relaxed against his and Harry had an odd sensation of further, alien relief flooding him.

"Your connection with one another is still extremely strong," Dumbledore stated, his eyes flitting back and forth between them. "You experience one another's emotions -- I believe Fred and George Weasley experience the same phenomenon. I am uncertain as to whether it occurs in Muggle twins but in your case, it is particularly strong. I fear Seth may begin to share Harry's visions from Voldemort now that they are in such close proximity, as well."

Harry bit his lip, "Snape told me he thinks I'm better at Occlumency than either of us thought -- would it work that way for Seth, too?"

Dumbledore gave Seth an appraising look and Harry was glad that Legilimency couldn't be performed through Floo powder, to his knowledge. "Given your surprisingly natural aptitude for the gift and other subjects you each inherited from your parents, I cannot be certain, but I do not think Seth's abilities should be any less than yours."

Harry breathed an outright sigh of relief this time before finally schooling his face back into a businesslike expression. "Professor, I'm serious about withdrawing from Hogwarts. I'll accept studying with Professors Lupin and Snape -- on the condition that Snape bothers to be as courteous as he keeps demanding from me -- but I won't be coming back to the school. The -- my new parents -- "

Behind him, unbeknownst to Harry, both Sandy and Kirsten broke out in joyful smiles and resisted the urge to make any noises.

" -- have custody of me. I'm no longer anyone's ward and they've allowed me to make my own choice about what school I'll attend. Your interfering further in my personal life won't do anything to repair my trust in you. You want that done, I'm sure."

Professor Dumbledore didn't answer at all this time, nearly goggling at Harry in outright astonishment. Both Harry and Seth did notice the tears that filled his eyes, however, even if he didn't.

"I'll take that as a 'yes', sir," Harry said respectfully with a concise nod. "I want your word that you'll abide by my decision and any I make from here on out -- with my family's help and none of you trying to use Mrs. Weasley to persuade me to do anything. I want your word you'll stop using me to further your agenda against Voldemort, whether you mean to or not. You agreed I'm not a tool or a puppet. I won't be paraded around like a show horse to tempt anyone you want to bring to the Order's cause. To do so would be an affront to everything you've just told me and I'd hope my respect of you is returned rather than discarded when you feel like it."

Dumbledore was very, very pale at this point -- Harry thought he rather resembled Uncle Vernon at the moment and it filled him with sadness. He had to do something to remind Professor Dumbledore that he didn't hate him and never would.

"Professor, you said you only ever wanted me to become my own person despite the prophesy -- this will be part of that, I think. The Muggle world is a part of me and I can't forget about it just because that would be convenient for others. It's..." Harry thought for a moment, remembering a DVD he and Seth had watched the previous evening that his brother had recommended after Harry decided he had chosen Japanese as his language of choice to learn at the Harbor School (if he got in). "It's like how in the movie, _The Last Samurai_ -- and in history -- Imperial Japan slowly melded into modern modes of living. The character Simon Graham told the character Nathan Algren that _the ancient and the modern worlds are at war for the soul of Japan_ and throwing away my past in the Muggle world would be like that -- like me asking you to come live as a Muggle. You just couldn't do it, sir, and it's unfair of anyone to ask the same of me. I think you're fair when you put your mind to it."

Tears were freely flowing into Dumbledore's beard in the surrounding flames now and Harry looked away to give him time to compose himself. The headmaster tried, henceforth, several times to speak but in the end failed. In the end, he simply allowed Harry to disconnect the Floo connection and the Cohens and Ryan all went to get dinner ready and set the table while Harry continued to stare pensively at the empty grate.

_…Well, am I hiding behind my doubts…Are they hiding behind me…_

...TBC...


	8. I Like A Quiet Life, You Know Me

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer: **Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea. Lyrics are from various sources, usually music I'm listening to while writing. In this case, it was the album, Plans, by Death Cab for Cutie.

**Summary: **But sometimes you can care too much, sometimes affection will obscure what's really happening - you can't bear to think it, so...you don't.

**Fandoms:** AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One.

**Timeline:** The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I should specify that in order for the two lines to sync up, I moved the start of 'The O.C.' back to the beginning of the summer as opposed to near the end.

**Pairings: **Harry Potter/Hermione Granger or Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood (I think Harry's going to decide, looks like...), Seth Cohen/Anna Stern.

**Notes: **I started thinking about the Dursleys and how, really, unfair canon was to them in terms of branding them as absolutely horrid people. Things aren't nearly as black and white as such was portrayed, but I do agree that these were two people who made absolutely terrible choices. It becomes a question of why, as usual, for me...also, I don't want to say this story bashes James. I simply don't understand everyone's perception of him as a 'good, decent, nice person' when the only evidence we ever saw of his behavior toward those he disliked was anything but.

Part VIII: I Like A Quiet Life, You Know Me...

_Petunia blinked before narrowing her eyes, trying to see through the warm mist that surrounded everything in sight. It wasn't until her eyes adjusted to dimmer light that she found she was facing her sister, Lily, who was beaming at her, a thin line of tears in her eyes as they watched Petunia where she stood gazing around._

"Tuney," Lily's soft ethereal voice called and Petunia found herself fighting a wince. She'd always hated when Lily had called her that - her little sister (and here she found herself pausing as she hadn't thought of Lily so fondly in more than a decade) had been unable to pronounce her name as a very small child and the nickname had simply stuck - but now wasn't the time for that...what time was there for anything?

Suddenly, it seemed as if there were gaps in her reality - wherever she was - and Lily's arms were reaching toward her. Petunia flinched back before she could help herself and Lily's shimmering, silver countenance seemed to fade, cracks and veins appearing in what seemed to be her shadow.

"I only ever loved you, Petunia," Lily's shadow told her, something akin to tears gathering and sliding down her face. "I only ever wanted to see you just once before..." Then Lily's face hardened and suddenly there was a wailing noise echoing around them as she seemed to scream despite her lips not moving.

If Dudley had been in my care, I would have loved him - would have adored him as I do Harry and Seth, I_ do _adore Dudley - my nephew - and would have treated them all the same! Instead, you shove my child in a cupboard, allow your bastard of a husband to kick and toss him about like a football!

Then the shadow of Lily grinned, a cruel, calculating grin that had never been seen on her living face and Petunia felt an icy chill fall over her.

Well, he's got what's come to him, your Vernon, hasn't he?

It was then that Petunia felt a fury lance through her and she returned fire,

Your_ husband _and those miscreant friends of his - they _ tormented _Vernon on our_ wedding day! _They spun him like a top until he was sick!

At this, Lily's cruel smile changed and Petunia perceived somehow that this new loathing wasn't directed at herself, but her sister's. Her disembodied voice softened, "I hated what James and Sirius did - always, and not just to you - to Sev, never mind what he always said to you. His pain was something he didn't know what to do with and he wouldn't let me help him. He didn't believe he deserved it and he was so confused...but there was only so far I could let him slide before I had to let him go. I couldn't let him take me with him. But James..."

And here, Lily's shadow hardened again, "_I was such a_ fool_...he hid that side of him - his possessiveness, his cruelty...as long as it was someone he didn't like, for whatever reason, he didn't feel the need to be _kind_ or _merciful_ or even _amiable_ with anyone he felt was beneath him - and who was more beneath him, in his eyes, than Severus Snape? There's no excuse and I've never known the reason. The day Sev called me a _mudblood_, I asked James what Sev had ever done to him and he said it was his very existence..."_

_Lily's bitter laugh echoed again and Petunia cringed. "Severus hurt me, it's true, but never so much as he hurt himself. He loved me, I know, as he'd never loved himself. He didn't think he was worth even my attention - it was a gift, he felt - dear God, Tuney, he didn't even see himself as having a soul worth_ saving_...you certainly didn't help, but I can't fault you for being human. You didn't know him, you didn't want to know him and, more importantly, Severus didn't want to know you."_

_Petunia frowned, resisting somehow the urge to scoff, her memories of Severus Snape swimming before her vision as though he were there with herself and Lily._

_"But all that is irrelevant," Lily said quietly, the hardness not yet gone from her voice. "Whatever Severus, James, and Sirius did to you was_ never _an excuse for what you've done to my son."_

_The bone-deep chill was back and Petunia felt a desperate urge to shiver, but couldn't manage it. And, still, Lily continued._

_"You treated him like absolute rubbish, and for what? I'm dead, Petunia. James is dead. You're dead, too, now, and your husband is probably as good as - what purpose did it serve? He was just a little boy and you tried your hardest to destroy him, you did an even better job than Lord Voldemort, I have to admit. Voldemort only wants to end Harry's life, he never wanted to make him suffer."_

_A thoughtful expression came over this paperish Lily's face as she gazed off into the distance. "Odd, really, how a monster like that ended up having more mercy for a little boy than you, Petunia - especially as Lord Voldemort knows nothing at all of compassion or any such nuisances as emotion. It's much easier to kill a child than it is to force him to live as you did, force him to believe that he had no worth, no meaning - all the while, my nephew has no concept of the idea that things won't always go his way."_

_Then the evil smile was back. "Well, actually, no - that's not right. You never did ask what he got up to at Smeltings, did you? They don't appreciate behavior in boys like Dudley at all. Did he ever take off his trousers in front of you? Did you ever see the marks on the backs of his legs and thighs? Or did you simply not want to know?"_

_Petunia gasped, unbidden tears coming to her face. "Lily, I - "_

_But Lily scoffed, "You really think you would have been of any help to him? If you and Vernon had meant anyone any good at all, Dudley never would have needed any such punishment. You let him be a bully and he's paying for it and now you can't lift a finger when you should have done so years ago. He'll pay even more and you can't stop it."_

_"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?" Petunia burst out, her thin fists balled at her sides._

_This paper-like Lily simply shrugged, "Why are we to do anything? Why did James put Amortentia in my every morning's tea until after we were Bonded and I was trapped with him? Why did Vernon burn Harry's Hogwarts letters and grin at the despair he caused? Because of want and entitlement. The question is, Pet, who are we to decide why and what people get and go? Why should we think ourselves so important?"_

_Petunia's mouth closed, more tears trailing down her face. She hadn't the faintest idea what_ Amortentia _was, but couldn't find the strength to get upset again. "You loved them," she whispered miserably. "You loved all more than you ever - "_

_The glare on Lily's face caught her up short and Petunia felt her mouth shut of its own volition._

_"I loved my sister. I still love her. You? I don't know who you are anymore than I knew Severus after those years. I never knew James at all. You've allowed the lies you've built to blind you and I can't do anything for you. None of you want to. It's fine. It has to be. There's nothing to be done."_

_Petunia found herself wilting inside, thoughts unbidden of times when Harry had been but a little boy and still bothered attempting to draw her out for comfort or even interaction. She remembers the way she ignored him crying in his cupboard, getting hurt or sick and leaving him to do whatever it was his...magic...did to repair the damage as best as his body could. She'd refused him everything she could possibly think of until he'd not even consider coming to her - the idea of going to Vernon had been a joke from the start, but she can recall vividly how she once cared something for Harry. She denied it for so long, lying to herself and everyone around her - Harry, most of all - ignoring the fact that he was more of an Evans than Dudley was or ever would be. Resentment and bitterness was all she could remember feeling for so long but suddenly she couldn't remember why._

_"It shouldn't have been you," she whispered then, the words falling unbidden from her lips. "If...if it had been Vernon and I, you would have - you said you would have loved them all the same and I know you would have..."_

_She couldn't understand how she knew now that Harry was a twin, that he had a brother named Seth whom she'd never met (and knew it was far better that way) and that Harry was in a far better place, now - loved and cared for as he always should have been. She didn't know which had been more important to her to stamp out - the...wizardry or the Evans part of him that was so painfully obvious, even when she tried her hardest to ignore it. Harry's kindness to those who hadn't earned his ire, his marks in primary had never dropped far, even when it seemed he'd tried just to keep the peace - Vernon was a terror even more than Dudley, particularly when it came to Harry outperforming Dudley in anything._

_But he hadn't been able to help it. And Petunia knew better than anyone that it hadn't been his fault any more than it was Dudley's that he simply didn't have the same aptitude. She'd ignored all that - had wanted to, searched for the slightest offense to set blame and readily found them. It had become an obsession, one she allowed Vernon to feed. She looked back at Lily now, watching her form no longer seeming so transparent and vapid. All that was left now was the oddly warm glow of immense sadness._

_"I'm sorry, Lily," was all she could say, her vision blurring now with tears._

_"I know," was Lily's equally despairing reply._

_It was then that Petunia felt Lily's arms around her for the first time in so long and before she could stop herself she was hugging her sister, clutching at her, both crying and murmuring nonsensical apologies and platitudes. Lily was right, after all. There wasn't anything else._

_...If Heaven and Hell decide that they both are satisfied, illuminate the 'NO's on their vacancy signs...If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks, then I'll follow you into the dark..._

Harry sat gingerly, wincing as Madam Pomfrey gently palpated his still-healing injuries, looking for signs of infection. It was early the morning of his first doctor's appointment in longer than he could readily remember and the Hogwarts school nurse had made a special trip through the Floo to assure that Harry wouldn't end up being admitted to the Muggle clinic his family was taking him to, as well as to assure that nothing had been further damaged in any more accidents.

She stepped back and nodded briskly, giving Harry the first hint of a smile he could recall while in her care - usually she was lecturing him on treating his body as some sort of battlement - and again surprising him by laying a hand on his cheek.

"I'll be sorry not to see you, come September, but...I suppose if I were in your place, I'd not like our world, either."

She tipped his astonished mouth back shut and set to rearranging her medic bag that she'd brought with her, gathering the discarded stasis wrappings and jars of various salves - trying, Harry could see, to blink back emotion he hadn't ever expected she'd feel on his behalf.

"I'm not sure I can say that Albus didn't at least try to keep your best interests at heart," she intoned softly and Harry nodded his understanding. "But sometimes you can care too much, sometimes affection will obscure what's really happening - you can't bear to think it, so...you don't. He didn't want to give in to temptation, he tells me - that he wanted to believe the best of those you were in the care of. I'm not sure Albus is capable of remembering that wanting to think the best isn't always going to make it so. That he can only do so much - those Dursleys, they would have had to do the rest, it...it wasn't up to you or Albus to make them. Love can't and shouldn't be forced."

Madam Pomfrey removed her hand from Harry's face, blinking back tears as she further busied herself with tidying up. "I expect Severus and Remus will return later today if you have enough energy. I've forbidden him to attempt to wrest anything from you that you're not ready for, whether he thinks it should be done or not. It's bad enough you've been trained into it for so long."

The mediwitch then leveled a firm stare at Harry that had him wincing slightly, "If I find you've been out of bed before a week is out with the exception of the loo and eating with your family _if your body permits it_, then I will have a letter from your guardians and I'll put a Full-Body Bind on you, myself. If you're not going to allow yourself to rest then there's no point in trying to repair your injuries, Mr. Potter. Furthermore, I won't heal whatever damage you inflict upon yourself and have you learn your lesson the good, old-fashioned way, which you know will take _far_longer."

Harry swallowed and sank back into the pillows on his new bed, frowning slightly as Madam Pomfrey removed his glasses and did one final check of his eyes. "In any case, I would appreciate your agreement that if you come down with any illness magical in nature, I should find out about it sooner rather than later - and tell your brother the same. You can test that boundary if you want to, but dragon pox is just as contagious as Muggle chicken pox and with an added green tinge I should think you'd like to avoid."

Harry winced visibly then, slowly managing to wiggle himself back down under his covers and lying back as Madam Pomfrey's glare relented once more.

"I have Albus' word that yours to him yesterday evening were taken to heart. Your marks at Hogwarts are being compared as best as possible to those of American Muggle schools and your credits transferring accordingly. Severus and Remus will keep him apprised of no more than you personally allow."

Harry frowned then, seeing the obvious gaping loophole. Madam Pomfrey smiled softly again, then, "Albus took an Unbreakable Vow not to intervene unnecessarily in either yours nor Seth's lives last night," she answered, biting her lip at the astounded expression that alighted on Harry's face.

"Your trust in him and regaining it appears to mean more than his own life, Mr. Potter," she said quietly before turning and walking briskly from the room.

Harry listened with increasing difficulty in staying awake as the quiet voices of Sandy, Kirsten, and Madam Pomfrey floated in from down the corridor. He didn't know where the words came...but all he could think was, _I'm free..._

_...You'll be loved, you'll be loved like you never have known and the memories of me will seem more like bad dreams...Just a series of blurs like I never occurred...Someday, you will be loved..._

...TBC...


	9. It Does Not Do to Dwell

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer:** Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea. Lyrics are from various sources, usually music I'm listening to while writing. In this case, it was the albums, _Masterpiece_ and _Bayside_, by Bayside. Though, there's a bit of Zero 7's 'Destiny' thrown in at the beginning. *nods*

**Summary:** It's..." Dumbledore wilted slightly, knowing Molly had no idea how much it cost him to say this. "It is entirely his choice. It is entirely his life..."

**Fandoms:** AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One.

**Timeline:** The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I should specify that in order for the two lines to sync up, I moved the start of 'The O.C.' back to the beginning of the summer as opposed to near the end.

**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Hermione Granger or Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood (I think Harry's going to decide, looks like...), Seth Cohen/Anna Stern.

**Notes:** I swear, eventually, I'll get to Harry's doctor's appointment...

Part IX: It Does Not Do to Dwell On Dreams And Forget to Live...

_...When I'm weak, I draw strength from you..._

Harry sighed and peeled back his covers, the sound of Kirsten's voice calling through his and Seth's doorway rousing him back to consciousness. He sat up slowly, wincing only slightly as the pain he'd previously felt had decreased a great deal. His eyes wove around his new bedroom of their own accord and for what seemed the thousandth time, he couldn't believe the turn his life had taken in such a short period.

Harry sighed, noticing that Hedwig wasn't back from her deliveries yet, but found that it didn't bother him as much as it had the previous summer. In Privet Drive, correspondence from his friends in the Wizarding world had almost seemed like sustenance, so much so that he'd forgotten himself and tossed perfectly good chocolate (which he much belatedly had realized would have lifted his mood a good deal) right into the rubbish bin. As it was, he found that this summer his previous anger was suddenly absent, a feeling of odd contentment in its place.

Hermione and Ron had been a lifeline when faced with the Dursleys and their persistent efforts to exhibit how little they'd cared for him, how little he'd meant in the eyes of seemingly everyone around him. He'd seen an absolute turnaround here in California, where he was smiled at more often than not, the only hitting or shoving being followed by pillows or a dunk into a pool (Seth had tried to get him to stick his feet in the previous night, but Harry had resisted, simply settling for a lawn chair while Seth and Ryan faffed about. It had been enough to get used to owning a pair of swim trunks, he wasn't quite ready for the water yet, despite his chat with Seth earlier in the evening) and not once had he been given any looks of disdain aside from Summer's seemingly habitual one that had been simultaneously countered with Marissa's nervous, yet friendly smile. It was jarring, to say the least.

Yawning and resisting the urge to scratch his newly healed places, Harry stood into an automatic stretch -- he found himself doing so on an almost constant basis, leading Sandy to suggest that they ask the doctor they were taking him to this afternoon for a referral to a chiropractor in hopes of loosening him up a bit -- and proceeded to pad into the bathroom. For once, it seemed, Seth had beaten him out of bed...odd, that...

The smell of breakfast drifting in through the doorway when he returned and dressed brought a curious smile to his face. He didn't recognize the smell, but whatever it was, he thought he was sure to enjoy it.

_...When I'm down, you breathe life over me..._

Dumbledore sat nearly breathless in his sunset-bathed office, reading Madam Pomfrey's report of Harry's vastly improved state of affairs since his arrival in Newport those short days ago. It saddened him that in all the time he'd spent at Hogwarts, Dumbledore knew without a doubt that Harry no longer belonged there...if he ever had. He sighed heavily, wiping the tears that leaked from his eyes and cleaned them from his glasses, resignedly setting the letter on his desk and folding it to place in a drawer. Dumbledore tried desperately to think of where he'd first gone wrong with Harry, but could come up with naught. Despondently, he pulled himself to his feet and forced himself to reach his fireplace, thereupon taking a pinch of Floo powder and tossing it in. The green flames reared up anew and he set to thinking about what to do next.

First order of business, alert Molly Weasley personally that Harry wouldn't be coming to the Burrow this year as he'd promised her. He despaired of her reaction and, even moreso, the subsequent attempts he would have to make to convince her not to go to California to drag Harry back by the ear -- once he'd managed to talk her down, he supposed, a talk with his brother -- perhaps gaining perspective on his actions that he was unable on his own. Ordinarily, he was loath to ask anyone else's opinion on any of his actions, so often seeing himself in the right, but with blatant evidence to the contrary staring at him from an entire world away earlier that morning, it was obvious to Dumbledore he had little choice in the matter. Resigning himself to her possible temper and reminding her that she really had no right to be in such a state (Merlin, the very idea that he'd needed to think this way felt so _foreign_ to him!), Dumbledore threw the pinch into the flames and called out, "The Burrow!" clearly and without a trace of the apprehension that, in reality, was seemingly eating away at him.

Molly Weasley's pleased face appeared in the flames and she inquired after his health and whatnot, but Dumbledore couldn't spare letting any pretenses form, answering quickly and getting to the point of the matter as fast as he was able. As he expected, the smile fell off Molly's face like a stone.

"What do you mean, Harry's not coming to spend the summer holiday with us?" she asked, confusion, burgeoning worry, and anger coming to cloud her face.

Dumbledore exhaled rather shakily, steeling himself inside. "Surely, Molly, Harry's owl arrived with both your son's and daughter's post for them by now? He explained the situation in letters, as did I, days ago -- "

He was interrupted by Molly's head turning in the flames to call for her two youngest children, leaving Dumbledore flinching at the ferocity in her voice.

"Molly!" he commanded, bringing her reeling back around. "Ronald and Ginevra's post from Harry is their own private business! I sent post to yourself and Arthur, as well, explaining recent circumstances."

Molly dithered, becoming visibly distressed, "Yes, but I -- well, I thought that was only a holiday, that you'd send him to America to rest up a bit, then bring him here for the rest of it until they all return to Hogwarts come fall term..."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, exhaling again. "No. I explained -- as I'm sure Harry has to both Ronald and Ginevra, as well as Hermione, Mr. Longbottom, and Ms. Lovegood, by now -- that he has _entirely moved house_, leaving his Muggle relatives and is _staying_ in America, including for the fall term. He is _not_ returning to Hogwarts. Whatever happened after that was left up to him, I made him a very concrete promise on that front -- "

It was then that Molly interrupted him, drowning out her childrens' voices reaching him from the background, "Well, it's only a promise, Dumbledore," she said in a harried tone, bringing a true frown to Dumbledore's face for the first time. "I was certain that once he'd got here, he'd forgive -- "

"Molly," Dumbledore commanded once more, bringing her up short. "I made Harry Potter an Unbreakable Vow that I would no longer interfere in either his nor his brother's life unnecessarily ever again and, I'm sorry to say, but visiting your home for the summer does fall under that umbrella. If Harry wants to visit your family, he will come of his own accord. It's..." Dumbledore wilted slightly, knowing Molly had no idea how much it cost him to say this. "It is entirely his choice. It is entirely his life. However we might try to take up the slack, we were never his parents and those I mistakenly entrusted him to did precious little to instill anything in him other than a sense of duty to obey, whatever the outcome to his person. Our further meddling will only drive him further away."

Molly was staring at him now, completely at a loss for what to say. "But...I told him...I -- he's as good as..."

Dumbledore nodded, tears leaking out once more as he recalled Harry's words to him yet again. "But he is _not_ your son, nor was he my weapon, my tool. He is his own person, as is his brother. Your home, this school -- they were only ever shallow replacements for that which cannot truly be filled. You are his friends' mother, not his. Lily cannot be replaced and, furthermore, Kirsten Cohen -- his adoptive mother and the mother to his brother all this time, know she cannot fill that gap within him. It is not shallow, it is not temporary."

By now Molly was beginning to cry, as well, and Dumbledore dearly wished he could end the conversation, but felt he owed her more than that. "If your children lost you and Arthur, no one could truly alter your imprints on their lives. Kirsten -- and Sanford, her husband and Harry and Seth's adoptive father -- understand that they needn't try to make Harry forget what little of James and, especially, Lily remain for them. This, with unrelenting force, is precisely what Harry's relatives have tried to do for as long as he lived with them. They have both paid an enormous price for that irreparable harm -- we needn't add to it, our intentions be...be damned."

Molly wiped fruitlessly at her eyes, casting around in the flames for something to distract her from what she felt was blindsiding betrayal. "He's...Harry's only a child, Albus..." she tried again, but Dumbledore shook his head.

"Harry has not truly been a child since he wrested the Philosopher's Stone from Lord Voldemort -- " he ignored Molly's subsequent flinch and continued. "at the age of eleven. He has much to learn, still, that is true, but not all of it is anything we could ever teach him. I could see it in his eyes when he Fire-Called me this morning, Molly. He's been a man far too long, far too soon. It was unfair of me, to use him as I have. To allow Severus' blind maltreatment to batter him, his uncle's blatant hatred to crush him -- I have _misused_ him, he is entirely correct in that belief."

Dumbledore exhaled forcefully, "Yes, I took an Unbreakable Vow to cease involvement in his life. Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall both gave me, word for word, simple report of the conditions to which I allowed him to surrender to. Whether I meant to or not, I deconstructed his personality, his sense of self. I have betrayed him."

Molly was staring at him in horror now, her face twisting in anger, then, "That night -- after the Third Task of that Tournament -- I asked you to let Harry come straight to us, instead you sent him back to those _Muggles_ -- "

"_Need_," Dumbledore interjected sharply, frowning more deeply at her words and tone. More of Harry's words to him had imprinted themselves, seemingly upon his soul. "I inform you that the Cohens, themselves, are Muggles? That simply because we are of magical ability does not automatically ensure we are capable of treating others well? Professor Snape is proof enough of that, sadly, as was James Potter, himself -- I had the pair of them in my office more times than I could count, constantly hexing and slandering one another. Usually, it was James who instigated everything, yet now that he is dead, you will never hear a word against him -- "

Dumbledore laughed bitterly, throwing up his hands for the first time. "Harry was right -- we are a blind mass of self-involved fools, Molly! Why _should_ Harry trust us? In fact, why should Miss Granger -- she was also raised in the Muggle world, mind you, and she is without a doubt one of the brightest witches I've seen in an age or more! Yet Lucius Malfoy and his ilk would dismiss, would _murder_ her in a second, would they not? How fair are we to place such importance upon ourselves?"

Molly was silent now, tears drying on her staid face as her eyes narrowed at Dumbledore. "Who exactly are you talking to, Dumbledore -- me or you?"

Dumbledore laughed again, this time the sound very slightly hysterical. "I haven't, really, the faintest clue, Molly." Then, Dumbledore raised a hand to his forehead before giving his wand a wave and conjuring a chair, seating himself heavily in it. "I am most apologetic for raving at you this way, Molly -- I hadn't meant to take my anger at myself out upon you. I've just...it's been a terribly long time since I've had such a blinding realization thrust upon me. I'd forgotten how the feeling can swallow you whole, the reasons why..."

Molly took a breath and tutted, "Well, at the very least, Dumbledore, I should think owling Harry might not be out of order? I'd hope he'd not cut us entirely away, given the chance?"

Dumbledore gave a soft laugh in response. "You are quite right, Molly, Harry would probably love to hear from you -- though, as we just agreed, it will be merely through owl post, yes? Possibly the Floo? The Cohens have petitioned the International Confederation of Wizards with my assistance so that their fireplace will become permanently a part of the Network. I doubt that with my assistance, they would be refused -- and it falls under that which is necessary."

Molly bit her lip and wiped at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Did you really make an Unbreakable Vow, Dumbledore? To never see Harry again?"

Dumbledore shook his head, his eyes downcast now, "Tempted as I am to search for the loopholes you doubtlessly desire, Molly, I did, indeed. It is the same reason I arranged for Seth Potter-Cohen to be adopted and raised elsewhere. Harry needs to be his own person, not that which _we_ demand of him. It is not our place and we, as a world, have been rather selfish, have we not? We purposely confuse what is good for Harry with what is good for the Wizarding world when those only rarely coincide. He asked me was he only ever a tool, a weapon to him, Molly -- "

Her breath hitched, but Dumbledore could not look back up. "How could I look him in the eye and answer in an affirmative? What would give me such a right?"

Molly shuddered then, and Dumbledore forced himself to look at her face. "You love him, I have no doubt, Molly -- but to us, he has always, always been the Boy Who Lived. To the majority of our kind, it is his sole identity, whatever else he may be is soundly ignored. But he is not a Messianic figure and to demand he step into the role of something akin to Jesus Christ? We are naught but human ourselves. In the end, we have no right to ask anything of him and I have made this Vow with that in mind. If I must fight Voldemort, myself, I will -- if Harry chooses and only then, he will do so in his own way, of his own devising. His life, after all, is the one being placed on a chopping block. I would not sentence him to a death he has not earned."

"But what has...has You-Know-Who to do with any of this?" Molly asked then, her face becoming stricken once more.

Dumbledore closed his eyes, cursing himself for the hundredth time in as many hours. "I am getting loose-lipped in my old age, Molly. I shan't say no more -- an Unbreakable Vow is exactly that. My sincerest apologies and farewell -- I expect you wish to contact Harry now, but -- and I ask you with the utmost sincerity, Molly...please do not try to wheedle or guilt him into returning to England. Swear to me you'll remember he has choices in life that are not ours?"

Molly hesitated and Dumbledore gave her a piercing stare, "Molly, he _is not_, nor has he ever been one of your children. In regard to them, yourself and Arthur have quite enough to be going on with them. After all, Ginevra's OWLs are coming up and surely you'd like to watch her excel as you know she will. Ronald will be in NEWT classes and that will take up a fair amount of his time, as well. Harry will be taken care of by his new family, I assure you, and he certainly will never forget nor cast you aside so unceremoniously. He loves you, too."

Molly hitched slightly and took a shaky breath, "Yes, yes, Dumbledore, I suppose you're right -- still, these...these Cohens, you're certain they'll take proper care of Harry?"

Dumbledore frowned slightly, "Sanford and Kirsten Cohen will take the utmost care not only of Harry and Seth Potter-Cohen, but of Ryan Atwood, their other adoptive brother, as well. They will want for nothing in the way of love, nor encouragement, and -- furthermore, they will be safe. Something, as much as I wanted to delude myself, I could never promise Harry before. He is leaving our world, but he is finding himself and that, I think, is of far more importance, don't you?"

Molly Weasley held back a sigh, "If he asks us to visit, you won't refuse him, will you?"

Professor Dumbledore shook his head, "Of course not, Molly, but you must also be prepared that he may want to get to know his new family without the encumbrance of outside influences."

Molly looked miserable now, but she nodded reluctantly. "Yes, I suppose...I suppose you're right, Dumbledore, you -- "

"I am _not_ always right, Molly," Dumbledore said heavily, rubbing his forehead again. "A fact which is being brought back to my attention right this very moment and I should not forget it again soon or I will rightly perish."

It was then that Molly burst out, "Dumbledore, how could you do something so _rash_? An _Unbreakable Vow_? To what end -- "

But he cut gently across her, closing the matter, "That is between Mr. Potter and myself, Molly. I am sorry, but I assure you, the decision was nothing in the way of rash."

Molly blanched, immediately backpedaling to apologize, but Dumbledore again waved her words off. "Do not apologize to me, Molly -- if I am to get used to my motives being rightly questioned, then far be it for me to refuse you the chance to vent deserved spleen?"

Molly softened once more then and gazed around the office behind Dumbledore, "Surely he'll miss it...the castle?"

Dumbledore gave a funny little smile, "As to that, I am unable to say. You're free to ask, of course. Goodnight, Molly, and -- please -- don't say 'hello' from me to Harry or Seth, I beg of you."

Molly's mouth gave a final tremble, but she nodded and the flames went out.

_...Somewhere, someone's finding happiness while I'm still here so hung up on you..._

...TBC..._  
_


	10. So, Sarcasm's Like Breathing for You

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer:** Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea. Oh, and I own Dr. Garrison.  
Lyrics are from various sources, usually music I'm listening to while writing. In this case, it was Catherine Feeny's 'Mr. Blue'; the albums, 'Enjoy Incubus!', 'Make Yourself', 'Morning View', and 'A Crow Left of the Murder' all by Incubus;

**Summary:** Instead, he focused his efforts the same way he did on Ryan, making sure that both knew they were _wanted_ in this house, that both he and Kirsten would do whatever it took to keep them, and that no matter what they did or said, nothing was ever going to get them thrown out of this house like so much garbage.

**Fandoms:** AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One.

**Timeline:** The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I should specify that in order for the two lines to sync up, I moved the start of 'The O.C.' back to the beginning of the summer as opposed to near the end.

**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Hermione Granger or Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood (I think Harry's going to decide, looks like...), Seth Cohen/Anna Stern.

**Notes:** And, voilà...!

Part X: So, Sarcasm's Like Breathing for You...

_...I have to go now, darling, don't be angry...I know that you're tired, I know that you're sore and sick and sad for some reason..._

Harry picked at his breakfast, unexpected nerves evaporating the hunger he'd been anticipating relieving with the feast of pancakes and fruit in front of him, but knowing he had a doctor's appointment coming up for the first time since fifth year primary had completely stolen the appeal. He felt cheated, to be perfectly honest. Seth and Ryan each sat on either side of him, looking equally morose.

Sandy paused to place his surfboard back against its customary place on the kitchen wall and took in all three of his sons' expressions in all their morale-killing glory.

"Well, it's a good thing I hadn't planned on being in a good mood this morning because this -- well, this just would have been disappointing."

Harry winced, automatically finding himself trying to force cheer onto his face, but Sandy shook his head, "Don't even try it -- you have every reason to be nervous about doctor's appointments, don't think you have to fake anything for us, ever, okay?"

Harry exhaled unconsciously and nodded. "I just...I don't know what to expect. I mean, Madam Pomfrey checked me over this morning but that was just for the broken stuff that needed healing -- I don't know what muggle doctors do now. Healers don't perform surgery, from what I've seen."

"They don't?" Seth asked, his head tilting inquisitively to the side. "But how would they fix stuff like badly broken bones and cancer and stuff?"

Harry shrugged, "Well, I know from experience that Skele-Grow potion is used to regrow bones -- badly broken ones are removed altogether, though with Lockhart, again, that was unintentional. Fractures are simply mended with wands. I think they use potions on cancer and other really nasty stuff, but I don't think it would work on Muggles -- well, maybe. Wizards sometimes play really nasty pranks on Muggles," and here Harry frowned harder. "A couple had to go into St. Mungo's last year for emergency bone regrowth, but I can't remember why. It was in the Daily Prophet, but I haven't taken it since last year when they were so busy writing me out to be a mad attention seeker."

Everyone around him scowled and Ryan dug into his cereal bowl with more force than strictly necessary.

Harry bit his lip and steeled his nerve, "Hermione got revenge on them by setting up a meeting between me, Luna, and Rita Skeeter -- she'll write whichever way the wind blows, but occasionally she can be tricked into showing moral fiber, it seems. Anyway, that whole article was printed in Luna's dad's paper, _The Quibbler_, which was completely uncensored and didn't distort a thing I said. Everything was my words and everything -- I remember how happy Luna was that so many people were suddenly ordering her dad's paper."

Harry grinned then, finding his breakfast a bit more interesting after that.

"Well, there's nothing like subterfuge to stimulate the appetite," Kirsten gave a soft chuckle, finally taking a bite of her own bagel and butter spread. "And we have rags like those, too, so the Wizarding world's not alone in its stupidity. Replace Rita Skeeter with Rupert Murdoch and it's basically the same thing."

Harry snorted, not particularly wishing to know what she was talking about and concentrating on at least making a good dent in his breakfast. Madam Pomfrey had told him on no uncertain circumstances that his long-term malnourishment at the hands of the Dursleys would only be repaired by the potions he was required to take for the next few months if he took each dose with at least half a meal.

She'd also assured him that these potions wouldn't show up in any blood tests his muggle doctor would run because the magical metabolism was sufficiently faster than the rest of the body's. Remembering proof of such, Harry had been taking said doses for the past week and while still feeling exhausted more often than not, it was becoming more and more apparent how much pain and discomfort he'd been in for so very long. The difference was both astonishing and rather hard to wrap his head around. A large part of him still understood the Dursleys point of view, but a part that was growing bigger the longer he was here told him that the way things were _never_ should have been, well-meant or not. His feelings about everything that had ever happened to him, good or not, kept getting muddled and tangled together until he didn't know which way to feel -- he was being torn in so many directions, he knew it was only a matter of time before something inside him split.

Harry breathed deeply again and tried another bite of his breakfast. He always felt full so fast! He knew that couldn't be right because most of his food was always untouched at this point, but it kept happening and he knew he couldn't keep going off food like at Hogwarts -- then it had been Hermione gently urging him to eat, now it was everyone around him. He wanted to do as what pleased them, but simply couldn't manage it some of the time. It was odd that they never got angry when he couldn't finish given portions of so much food, like he was letting things go to waste and mostly felt lucky it was allowed to him at all, but he didn't voice these thoughts because something told him it would make the Cohens unhappy and he certainly didn't want to do that.

He'd told Madam Pomfrey of the leg pains he'd long since gotten used to and she'd done a diagnostic scan to find that his bone density hadn't been nearly what it should have been. Astounded, Harry had asked her if he had rickets and she had more or less affirmed it, though she'd called it something else; no doubt a term from the magical world. She had told him that it could be repaired by the time he needed to go to the doctor, but he'd needed to take it before bed over the previous four days and get a full night's sleep to speed up its effects. This hadn't turned out to be a problem as the soporific effect of the Bone-Thickening potion had been more than enough to make sure he'd done just that. He'd found a note this morning, though, encouraging him to try out his family's pool to take the stress off his healing body and Harry knew he wouldn't be able to avoid the water much longer without her finding out.

Harry sighed, "Um, this morning, before she left -- Madam Pomfrey told me I should start wading in the pool in the morning to help my muscles and bones, especially since they're so stiff. But, I...um..."

"Come on, I'll take you," Sandy volunteered, catching his drift. "Seth, Ryan, you two come on -- we could all go."

"Yay, I get to play lifeguard," Kirsten smirked, pretending to glare at Sandy.

"Not unless you plan on getting in a swimsuit, hon," Sandy teased back, winking. "Kind of a prerequisite, ya know."

"Oh, fine," Kirsten huffed, turning to trudge out of the kitchen. "But I'm wearing a sarong!"

"Wh -- " Sandy started to protest but Seth clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Dad, don't think I don't know you and Mom are flirting and...parental unit flirting is just...there's all kinds of wrong, there." Seth pretended to shudder as Sandy pushed his hand away.

"Go get your trunks, wise ass," he grinned, glad he was still wearing his wetsuit. Sandy padded out the patio doors into the sunlight, glad the sunshine seemed to be getting reflected in his family's demeanor again. He was determined to make Harry's life as much of an enjoyment as possible and had a feeling this was only the beginning.

_...I see you in line dragging your feet, you have my sympathy..._

"Don't let go," Harry hated the way his voice shook as Sandy's hands held him under his arms in the pool, but there wasn't anything he seemed able to do about it and it appeared that everyone was making an effort to ignore it.

"I won't, I promise," Sandy said firmly, sweeping an arm under Harry's legs and bringing him up to float on his back. Harry shrieked, but managed to calm down when he realized Sandy still hadn't relinquished his hold. "I'm going to lower my arms slowly and let the water hold you up. Just trust that you have buoyancy and remember that water spreads the density of your body out as long as you don't compress yourself."

Seth faked an impressed look, "Whoa, look at Mr. Secret Physics Nut! Bow down, people, bow down!"

Sandy snorted as Harry grinned despite his fear. "I didn't _only_ study law in college, Seth. You already know what I'm talking about, you and Ryan, both."

He looked down at Harry, noticing the embarrassment that flitted across his face. "And everything you missed out on at Hogwarts, we'll be happy to let you catch up on here. And no one will rush or slow you up, either. Your own comfort is what's important, remember that."

Harry resisted nodding, suddenly noticing that Sandy's arms were no longer beneath him and he was floating on top of the water next to his...his new father. It dipped into his ears and he tried not to flinch. Kirsten had explained before he got in that when everyone came out she would put drops in their ears to make sure the water didn't infect them. He wasn't quite sure how chlorinated water infected ears, but he decided he was going to find out as soon as possible.

He also decided he liked swimming after all, even without gills and flippers. He closed his eyes and so couldn't see the worry on Sandy's face at how thin Harry's body was in comparison to either Seth's or Ryan's, nor how much more visible his ribs were, the pallor of his complexion, or the fatigue he saw in his new son's body nearly all the time, however he may try to hide it. A huge part of him wanted to take the short trip over to the Dursley bastard's new house and give a little back of what Harry'd gotten for so long, but he knew that was never the way to go. Instead, he focused his efforts the same way he did on Ryan, making sure that both knew they were _wanted_ in this house, that both he and Kirsten would do whatever it took to keep them, and that no matter what they did or said, nothing was ever going to get them thrown out of this house like so much garbage.

Sandy's eyes met Kirsten's at the pool side and at once he knew they were in complete agreement without thought.

_...There's something about the look in your eyes and it reminded me that you're so worth the fight..._

Harry slowly lowered himself down from the table where Dr. Garrison, the on-call physician who'd been assigned to his case, had only just completed the full body examination he'd been given. It had been a very, very long day, full of his blood being taken from both arms to run as many tests as possible, and x-rays of his bones and internal organs. He tried not to pay attention to the way he knew Garrison was discussing his condition with Sandy and Kirsten outside in the hall, Seth and Ryan both having been encouraged to head down to the visitor's lounge once it became obvious they'd be there for quite a while. Harry looked down at his own chest as he buttoned the oxford he'd worn over a plain undershirt and noted what he knew had probably bothered Garrison so much. The doctor had asked him if he'd gotten into any recent fights or accidents and Harry hadn't been able to tell the whole truth, which seemed to tell the doctor more than Harry had wanted him to know. He'd made sure to tell Garrison that he'd only been taken in by the Cohens in the last few days and had lived with relatives in England, who were now dead (more or less), and hadn't missed the seemingly satisfied glint in Garrison's eyes at this revelation. Harry wanted to make sure, above all else, that _no one_ ever had a reason to even _think_ that either Sandy or Kirsten had done this to him, but it seemed his fears were unfounded.

Garrison had asked him if they'd adopted him and he'd excitedly said yes, pulling a smile onto the doctor's face before he'd realized it. "Glad to hear it!" Garrison had told him, then, his voice slightly more upbeat even compared to the light tone he'd had just before. As it was, Harry found his palms were starting to sweat as he watched Garrison talk to the Cohens' shadows through the closed blinds and tried desperately not to think about what they could be saying about him. He didn't want to think right now, he just couldn't, but it seemed that a switch had been turned on and wouldn't shut back off so he started reciting the names of all the magical plants he remembered from Herbology, trying to keep his voice as silent as possible but his thoughts the opposite.

The door swung open and Harry jumped in surprise, yelping again as both Garrison and his family returned.

"Good news, Harry," Garrison said brightly, his face apologetic for giving Harry such a fright. "You get to go home and have a nice long two weeks of bed rest ahead of you," he said, the last part brooking no room for argument. Harry was so relieved that no one was going to take him from the Cohens that he didn't even care about what he was agreeing to. "I've given your parents a list of foods you're to eat on a very regular basis and advised them to continue with the hydrotherapy they started you on this morning. Sitting and floating in the water twice a day, understand? Once in the morning -- and in the afternoon after school starts up again -- and once in the evening for no less than an hour each time, okay?"

Harry nodded, reaching for his new trainers to finally put them back on. "Yes, sir," he said quickly, simply glad to be leaving this place finally.

"You take good care of yourself, Harry," Dr. Garrison said firmly as Sandy placed a hand on his shoulder and pretended not to help the exhausted boy to the door that led out to the rest of what seemed to be a very large clinic. "I'll be seeing you again in a month to see how you're healing up."

Harry nodded and time seemed to have great gaps in it until suddenly they were in the car again and Ryan and Seth were on either side of him. Then he felt himself sliding into sleep and, for once since last year, he didn't fight it.

...TBC...


	11. The Imprint of A Departed Soul?

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer:** Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea.  
Lyrics are from various sources, usually music I'm listening to while writing. In this case, it was 'Narrow Stairs' and 'We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes' by Death Cab for Cutie and a lot of Marvin Gaye, Johnnie Taylor, and some of The Temptations. Plus, I thought of the _Goblet of Fire_ soundtrack while writing this. Incongruous, perhaps, but helpful nonetheless.

**Summary:** "Bright little ray of sunshine, isn't he?"

**Fandoms:** AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One.

**Timeline:** The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I should specify that in order for the two lines to sync up, I moved the start of 'The O.C.' back to the beginning of the summer as opposed to near the end.

**Pairings:** Harry Potter/Hermione Granger or Harry Potter/Luna Lovegood (I think Harry's going to decide, looks like...), Seth Cohen/Anna Stern.

**Notes:** I'm rereading Life of Pi by Yann Martel and King Dork by Frank Portman; reading Human Anatomy: From the Renaissance to the Digital Age by Rifkin, Ackerman, and Folkenberg; and watched the start of the second half of the fifth season of nip/tuck last night the night before last. You're all lucky that not only am I _not_ rereading Hey Nostradamus! by Douglas Coupland, but I rewatched _Dogma_ and _Constantine_ last week. At least, that's what I think. *chuckles*

**Warnings:** Specific theories and such from the remaining two books, plus the above movies (and probably discussion of others), have had their way with me. I asked them to be gentle, but...

Part XI:...The Imprint of A Departed Soul?

_We're not the same as we used to be, the seasons have changed and so have we..._

"So, uh, what'd you get?" Kirsten's voice traveled over Harry's head as he and Ryan awaited their mutual turns with Dr. Kim. Seth had come ambling back out of the Academic Building carrying a list similar to the one he'd always gotten from Professor McGonagall at the beginning of term with the exception of it being regular paper, not parchment.

Seth let out a slightly elongated sigh and recited, "AP History, English, Calculus, Physics, and French 4 -- good thing I don't have a life."

"Bright little ray of sunshine, isn't he?" Kirsten smiled, faking a glare at Seth, who had pretended to pout in recompense.

Harry smiled, shaking his head before freezing as he noticed an Asian woman and a balding man coming closer.

Kirsten and Seth both greeted them, Kirsten excusing herself for a moment to talk to the man whose name Harry hadn't made out from Seth's overenthusiastic, nervous jabber.

Dr. Kim, he realized as she turned to look at both Harry and Ryan after proclaiming Seth 'interesting'.

Harry exhaled, trying to master his nerves and block out Seth's from his internal consciousness.

Now was the time his and his brothers' lives would go one way or another. It seemed almost to be cosmic natural selection, but Harry had a feeling it would be painfully slower and rather more, well, boring. You can't be bored if something's trying to kill you, he knew -- it was just one of those things.

Dr. Kim met with Ryan and Harry each, in alphabetical order. If she took note of anything that Garrison had the previous evening, she didn't show it.

***

"Well, Mr. Potter -- " she stumbled slightly on the new hyphen in his name and Harry held up a hand.

"Actually, it's fine to call me 'Cohen' -- I haven't really decided exactly what my name will be by the beginning of term, but I..."

Harry took a breath and resisted the urge to clench the arms of the chair he sat in or shy away from Kirsten's hand on his shoulder. "My mother's name was 'Evans', I'm a 'Cohen' now -- I was more or less _branded_ a Potter -- I'll have to pick my way through a bit of a bramble, but could we leave it at just 'Harry' for now?"

Kirsten's hand squeezed his shoulder again as Dr. Kim pulled a watery sort of smile onto her face. "Of course -- Harry -- your grades at your previous school were rather exceptional, from what I can see -- I can certainly see you made an impression in what seems to be an athletic class -- "

Harry flinched visibly and Dr. Kim paused, "I seem to be incorrect in my description," she surmised and Harry breathed inward.

Harry resisted the urge to sigh, trying to come up with the words to describe 'Defense Against the Dark Arts' in more Muggle-like terminology. "It was more like a practical sort of...criminology class, for lack of a better term. Only it didn't just deal with profiling people and your ability to...spot, apprehend, and/or subdue them -- there were certain kinds of animals, as well." Harry sighed, pulling his hands away from the armrests.

"More than anything, you had to anticipate, interpret, and -- if necessary -- defend yourself in any given situation. An enemy could be anything and you had to adapt your thoughts and act accordingly."

Kirsten squeezed his shoulder again and Harry knew she was remembering his memories from the Pensieve -- even Lupin's obstacle course from third year, the Dementors, Umbridge, Uncle Vernon, all of it...

Dr. Kim was watching him now and Harry had to struggle to keep his face blank. This was easier than Snape -- she couldn't pull out his thoughts or memories. All she could do was guess.

"Well, Mr. -- Harry, I can see we're going certainly going to have something to look forward to in your test results. I have to say, I can't at all imagine what you might test into."

Harry found himself smiling before he could stop himself. "Well, I guess we'll just have to find out, then, won't we?"

Dr. Kim gave Harry a long, intrigued expression but didn't say anything else. Instead, she glanced at Kirsten, who merely raised an eyebrow back.

_...It wasn't quite what it seemed, the lack of pleasantries..._

"So, what, _dude_ -- Harry just left her speechless, like...without actual words?"

Seth was looking back and forth between his mother and Harry in awe, wishing Ryan wasn't taking his own exam so he wouldn't be the only one in the same position.

Kirsten found herself chuckling, "I've never seen that woman at a loss for words until today. If I hadn't known what Harry was talking about, I might've been, too."

Harry turned his head to hide his blush and instead scanned the area around them, allowing his new mother and brother's conversation to become a low-level drone as he watched the other kids milling and slithering about lie the creatures Hagrid loved so much.

He waited for a lull in the conversation and then turned to Seth, "Is there any way to take both forensics and zoology classes -- and biology -- and -- "

"_Dude_," Seth burst out holding up his hands and grinning, "Take your test and I'll give you my course guide after that! If Dr. Kim was anything like Mom says, you'll take whatever you want!"

And for the first time that day, Harry truly smiled.

_...So take your hands off me tonight, I'm breakin' free -- _

***

Harry was sitting on the steps of the pool, the course booklet held aloft on the patio tile before him when he noticed a very familiar shadow fall across him. Without looking up, he said dryly, "I know for a fact you have better things to do, Dud."

He pushed his slipping glasses back into place. "In fact, I'm doubly sure you're not even supposed to be here."

Harry watched Dudley's face, looking for tell-tale signs, any indication of the return of old habits but saw none. Harry's brow furrowed. Since when had Dudley ever been the quiet type?

"There's y-your k -- " Dudley stammered and clenched his eyes shut. Harry frowned again in curiosity and reached for the snorkeling goggles Sandy had given him earlier in the evening and snapping them on over his glasses.

"I don't care how scared or brave or whatever you think you are right now," he told Dudley quietly. "If you try to break these glasses -- "

"You _saved_ me!" Dudley gasped, his large frame wilting and Harry took a breath. "From those...I couldn't even see them! You could have -- could have let them at me -- I'd've done it to you..."

And Harry was further flummoxed to find tears wending their way down Dudley's face. "I would've let them have you -- just as soon done a runner...but you _saved_ me..."

Harry watched, stunned, as Dudley tried visibly to breathe. "Yeah," he said quietly, carefully.

"_Why?_" Dudley nearly whispered and behind him, Harry could see Sandy and Kirsten both watching ceaselessly through the window.

Around them, the sun was finally starting to set.

"Seemed like the thing to do, is all," Harry murmured and Dudley laughed brokenly. Harry felt his stomach turn over at the sound. It was so...hollow...

Harry's eyes widened and he said firmly, "Dudley, tell me right now what you see."

_...Walkin' floors and slammin' doors...I was goin' insane..._

...TBC...


	12. Maybe We'll Both Make It Out of Here

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer:** Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea.  
Lyrics are from various sources, usually music I'm listening to while writing. In this case, it was the album, 'Ipecac Neat' by P.O.S., In Our Darkest Hour' by Phantom Planet, from their album, 'The Guest', and the song 'Keep Myself Awake' by Black Lab from the first Buffy the Vampire Slayer soundtrack.

**Summary:** Harry started sharply, nearly overcome, himself, with the suddeness of the idea that now arrested him. "Madam Pomfrey, can Dementors vomit?"

**Fandoms:** AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One.

**Timeline:** The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I should specify that in order for the two lines to sync up, I moved the start of 'The O.C.' back to the beginning of the summer as opposed to near the end.

**Pairings:** Actually, I have no real idea at the moment. I'm distracted, it seems. *chuckles*

**Notes:** You may want to blame Fullmetal Alchemist. Who knows?

**Warnings:** Possible spoilers for the final two books, but since this completely departs from canon, I don't believe it's anything earth-shattering.

Part XII: ...Maybe We'll Both Make It Out of Here Alive.

_...Yeah, it began as a spark then a flame, grew into a fire and spread out again and I just woke up here surrounded by the whole thing..._

Dudley stared down at Harry, trying to get a hold on all these strange...pains, he thought them, running through him. They wouldn't leave him alone, he'd try to think of something he liked -- food, video games, his new leather jacket -- none of it worked. Sometimes, all he could think about was the night those freaks came and took him and his parents, what they'd done to his dad -- they'd killed his mum...he heard her all the time in his dreams, when and if he could sleep at all during those times.

He hated them.

"Dudley!" Harry said sharply, his hands gripping Dudley by the shoulders and giving him a bit of a shake. "I need you to tell me what you see!"

But Dudley's voice wouldn't work. It was like this, everything piling up, until eventually he couldn't take it anymore and he'd black out. He didn't like to tell anyone, but it'd happened more than once now. He shuddered, unable to move away from Harry's fingers gripping him tightly.

"They killed her," he whispered, his voice finally coming out a dry husk. "And I...couldn't care, I was just...surprised, is all. I didn't really feel anything. I don't...feel...I don't know if I ever did."

Harry froze, then, and backed away, his head tilting to the side slightly. "You don't care your mum's dead and your dad's as good as?"

"It...sometimes it's all I can think about -- other times...I feel nothing. The nothing feels more normal -- it's the thinking about it bit that doesn't."

Harry frowned more firmly, releasing Dudley and backing away. "Dudley, I need to ask my new parents if you can come inside. I need to ask my old school nurse to come here."

"They're not your parents, you don't have any," Dudley told him smartly and he responded with an automatic 'shut up'.

Harry walked slowly backward and Dudley watched, suddenly impassive. He could only feel relief at the oddness overwhelming him falling away like someone simply blew it out of him. He didn't realize it, but he was smiling.

_...This is for all the artists who knew their work was just a drop in the ocean, but did it anyway, hopin'...This is for everybody who carries the world's weight, but stands up straight -- put a hand up, try to relate..._

Harry knelt before the fireplace, speaking as fast as he could to explain to Madam Pomfrey what was going on and whether she could come as soon as possible. Behind him, Dudley sat placidly, playing with his own fingertips next to a visibly disturbed Sandy on the couch. Harry wasn't sure where Seth and Ryan were at the moment, but the less distraction he had at the moment was really the better.

"Is there any way for Dementors to affect Muggles?" he asked urgently, glancing back at Dudley, who seemed completely unconcerned now.

"Well, yes, it happens rather quicker for them," Madam Pomfrey said worriedly, her eyes trained on his cousin. "Less magical core to attempt to chew through with their souls."

Harry froze, remembering how Dudley had completely fallen apart that night the year before, and his eyes narrowed. "Madam Pomfrey, Dudley cried just now. He hasn't cried in years and even then, it was mostly to get what he wanted. He only ever pretended. He's never shed a tear until now. And...he says he feels things when he didn't before -- what...what on earth could that mean? Could Dementors -- "

Harry started sharply, nearly overcome, himself, with the suddeness of the idea that now arrested him. "Madam Pomfrey, can Dementors vomit?"

Harry heard both Sandy and Kirsten make loud, startled noises. He watched as the color drained from the Mediwitch's face and could see her brain going over the same possibilities he had. Harry decided to elaborate on his theory, hoping to speed things along. "Professor Lupin told me in third year that people can exist without their souls -- that they'd be husks afterward, completely incapable of anything emotional. He said it affects wizards worse, that we lose all function -- but if a Dementor had come from Azkaban after feeding on souls of the prisoners and when my Patronus hit it in what could be considered its abdomen, is it possible the Dementor vomited a soul into Dudley -- not just a foreign soul, but one where there hadn't been before? Like a vacuum in space being filled?"

Harry heard more noises behind him but only had eyes for Madam Pomfrey, who was concentrating madly. "Dear Lord, Mr. Potter, if your theory's at all correct -- your cousin may end up being the first Muggle admitted to St. Mungo's Criminally Insane ward."

Harry inhaled harshly, wincing at the idea of his cousin going to such a place. "But...but, he has empathy now. He didn't before -- it's like it's the opposite altogether. And...and is it possible to have the soul removed, like having his stomach pumped or would it just stay there? And...like I said, it's almost...an improvement."

Harry got to his feet and turned to face Dudley and his parents, both of whom were trying their best not to move away from him.

"Is it...like a battle?" Harry asked, more to himself than the room at large. "And can he be assisted?"

Harry spun back around, "Am I still a legal part of the Wizarding world?"

Madam Pomfrey hesitated, "No, Mr. Potter, Dumbledore emancipated you as of this morning, but what -- "

"Hold on a moment, please," Harry stated, suddenly calm. He walked back over to the couch and knelt before Dudley, retrieving his wand from the pocket of his swim trunks. Breathing deeply, he looked at the faces of both Kirsten and Sandy still seated next to Dudley and commanded, "Expecto Patronum," in a clear voice.

The ghostly white stag seemed to climb out of his wand slowly, as though it were leaving a wood, and seemed to gaze at Dudley. The Patronus' head turned to look back at Harry and he knew it was waiting for instruction.

"Can you get in? Can you stay in?" Harry asked it, narrowing his eyes at the brightness. The stag didn't respond so much as dissipate, becoming a sort of mist and wending upward toward Dudley's mouth.

Harry lunged forward, taking hold of Dudley's jaw and pulling his mouth open. The silvery-white light of the Patronus dove into Dudley's body, suffusing it with light. He glowed brightly for a moment before seemingly going out and slumping to the floor.

Harry knelt down to check his pulse, faintly hearing Madam Pomfrey say she was going to come through the Network within the moment, and glanced up to find his parents pulling themselves dazedly to their feet.

"You were affected by what was feeding off of Dudley," Harry frowned, getting up as quickly as he dared to go to the kitchen and return with three glasses of chocolate milk. He gave two to Sandy and Kirsten, each, and watched as they drank them, coming out of their stupors seemingly like sleep. "Please have Dudley drink this when he wakes up."

He gave the third, which had ice in it, to Kirsten, who set it on one of the coasters in front of her and nodded shakily.

"What the hell just happened?" Sandy asked, his voice full of alarm as he stared down at Dudley's sleeping form.

"I'm not sure yet," Harry answered grimly, his brow furrowed down at Dudley's supine form. "But I'll have the answer if I can. I can't help that I have to take breaks, but I'm going to figure this out. For now, could you both possibly put Dudley on the sofa?"

Kirsten and Sandy both lurched as though they'd been remiss and did as Harry asked, both starting loudly when Madam Pomfrey came through the fireplace.

"Mr. Potter, what on earth did you _do_?" she asked, mastering her urge to move him aside and peering up at him.

Harry took a breath. "I remembered that night by the lake, when those loads of Dementors attacked Sirius and almost got his soul. I was able to put it back in his body before they managed it. In this case, I wanted to see if I could keep the soul the Dementors accidentally put _into_ Dudley there, sort of like a transplant."

Harry began to pace back and forth, his brow furrowed, "I...I don't think he had one before and that was the problem. I need to check the records of Azkaban somehow, though -- this soul was remorseful, even pious -- Dudley's never been either. Azkaban's a prison and they do have levels of security depending on the crime committed. I think Dudley accidentally imbibed the soul of a person serving a short sentence that the Dementors decided to make a light snack of."

Madam Pomfrey shivered, her skin still pale, and began examining Dudley more earnestly, "Mr. Potter, if you're at all correct, then it's possible you may have just discovered a way to salvage lost souls for the benefit of the ill."

Harry shook his head. "It was my Patronus, Madam -- "

But the Mediwitch turned and eyed him beadily, "Mr. Potter, I know you paid very good attention in Defense more than any other class -- what is a Patronus made of? Happy thoughts bring them forth, yes, but _what are they made of_?"

Harry felt his mouth drop open, "You mean I just transfused a bit of my soul into Dudley?"

Madam Pomfrey seemed torn between pride and an urge to lecture. "Yes, Mr. Potter, that is exactly what you have just done -- only, it was not done out of malice or with evil intent, the way souls are usually split. The only time a wizard can usually split their soul at all is during the commission of murder."

Harry gasped, along with both Sandy and Kirsten, and he blinked, "I...I wouldn't -- "

"Yes, Mr. Potter, that is my _point_!" Madam Pomfrey was obviously wavering between being irate and ecstatic and couldn't seem to decide which to choose. "Only the Darkest of wizards usually split their souls and then it's only for their own gain, to become Immortal. As long as their souls are in pieces, housed in objects, they cannot die. You have turned that on its head by pushing your Patronus into your cousin's body, infusing him with the inherent goodness in you. Souls can be repaired in this fashion, I believe, since there _was no malicious intent_ -- I shall have to speak to Severus and Remus, particularly before they arrive here tomorrow morning, your time -- I will not alert Dumbledore about this and as long as Severus and Remus keep their mouths shut, it won't be in the paper or even written up for St. Mungo's unless you grant permission. In lieu of you and your cousin being examined by St. Mungo's, I will take a leave of absence from Hogwarts. It is summer holiday and the majority of staff are out of the castle same as the students. You have my word that unless you wish it, no one will be made aware of this."

Then she laughed sharply, "As if I could hardly find words to tell them!"

But Harry was frowning again, his hand coming to his scar, "Madam Pomfrey...I...Dumbledore said I had shadows of Voldemort inside me -- he was trying to kill me. Was it to split his soul?"

Kirsten's hands alighted firmly on Harry's shoulders and he flinched slightly. He'd forgotten they were there at all.

Madam Pomfrey's eyes clenched shut momentarily, her hand coming to her mouth as she looked away from Dudley's prone form. "Yes, Mr. Potter, Dumbledore believes that was You-Know-Who's intention -- to use your death to split his soul."

Sandy and Kirsten made affronted, frightened noises, but still said nothing. Kirsten was clutching him to her now and Harry was starting to feel oddly numb.

"But he didn't succeed and he lost his own body. He didn't die when the Killing Curse rebounded on him. He used my blood to help him regain his body the night of the Third Task. Does that mean -- these Dark wizards, what are they trying to make exactly?"

Madam Pomfrey's face fell before pulling itself into an expression of misery. "I don't actually know, Mr. Potter, that -- "

Harry nodded, cutting her short, "It wasn't Light Magic or Medi-magic, so you didn't feel the need to learn about it. I get it."

"I -- " Madam Pomfrey tried again, but Harry brought his hand up to stop her.

"I _understand_," Harry insisted, casting for a way to show her his resolve. "Is there any way I can get the answer without having to actually _do_ Dark Magic?"

Harry was afraid Madam Pomfrey might start to cry, she looked so despondent from being unable to answer his questions. "It's alright, I'll just do some more shopping by owl-order. I've got post coming, anyway, from Flourish and Blotts -- it wouldn't hurt to simply add to the list."

Harry made a point of turning to both Kirsten and Sandy and nodding his goodnight. He in turn nodded to Madam Pomfrey and exited the patio doors to retrieve his course booklet and head to the pool house, it suddenly occurring to him that it'd be obvious Seth and Ryan were there.

He couldn't muster up the strength to do much more than curl up on the end of Ryan's bed, staring dazedly at the ceiling as his brothers resumed their video game playing, as of yet unaware of any of anything that had happened.

_...I hate to act as if there's something wrong that I can't say..._


	13. If One Only Remembers

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer:** Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea. Ah, yes, a paraquote of the Metatron from _Dogma_, interestingly enough also played by Alan Rickman. *nods in satisfaction*  
Lyrics are from various sources, usually music I'm listening to while writing. In this case, I bought Fall Out Boy's new album, 'Folie à Deux' and have since become addicted to 'Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes'. *nods*

**Summary:** Harry glanced at the ceiling, seemingly praying momentarily for patience, before sticking his hand out at Snape, "Harry Cohen, nice to meet you, sir."

**Fandoms:** AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One.

**Timeline:** The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I should specify that in order for the two lines to sync up, I moved the start of 'The O.C.' back to the beginning of the summer as opposed to near the end.

**Pairings:** You know, given plot developments, this may turn into a Gen!Harry fic for now. I'll just go with it.

**Notes:** I am more than certain that Lily was not Jewish in canon. However, for the sake of this story, I'd like to bend what was never even mentioned.

**Warnings:** Possible spoilers for the first season of 'The OC' and both Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows, but since this completely departs from canon, I don't believe it's anything earth-shattering.

Part XIII...If One Only Remembers to Turn on the Light...

_...I'm a loose bolt of a complete machine...What a match -- I'm half-doomed, you're semi-sweet..._

**_Two Weeks Later..._**

Harry had to admit, really, that the expressions on both Snape's and Professor Lupin -- Remus, he had to remember, as his father's friend insisted they were no longer involved in the hierarchy of a professional relationship and Harry and Seth were free to address him either by his first name or his nickname, Moony -- were worth a photograph, at least.

Seth had put together the reasons for the nickname rather faster than Harry had, particularly after walking right up to Remus and peering at the scars that lined his face.

"Man, that's gotta suck," was all Seth had said and Remus had stared back, completely unaccustomed to such a lackadaisical response to his curse. Seth had made a face when Remus had asked him as much and shrugged sharply, "Dude -- so you're a werewolf -- Wolverine's got it a bit harder than you, man. At least no one's kidnapped you and erased your memory of your _identity_!"

Harry had been forced to hold in laughter at the confusion on both Lupin and Snape's faces at these words, having been gifted with Seth's entire Marvel comic collection during his reluctant bed-stay and becoming well-versed in Marvel superhero lore.

Ryan had expressed his own interest in DC comics, which Harry had subsequently learned was their biggest competitor, and Sandy had light-heartedly encouraged this 'rivalry' by taking Ryan to get or order every DC comic he was interested in online.

As a result, Harry had ended up reading the larger canons of each universe and now enjoyed discussing each at length with his brothers, silently enjoying watching them make faces at one another whenever either mentioned characters from either that could supposedly destroy whomever they were talking about. Harry was privately very fond of Young Justice, but wasn't going to let either Ryan or Seth know that any time soon.

It had become a sort of game between the three of them with Harry as the mediator, 'Wolverine vs. Batman' being one rather involved round that even got Sandy into the discussion once the advantages between being a mutant and a multi-billionaire became heated.

Kirsten had actually pulled Sandy out of the room one round once they began discussing Daredevil being a public defender, saying that he did have _actual_ public defending to do and to leave the boys to their discussion and basically go away.

But Harry pushed that out of his mind now, sighing inwardly and giving Remus a bit of a grin. He knew the werewolf was used to Harry usually looking nearly as bad as he did and wondered how much he'd filled out over the preceding weeks.

He supposed looking in the mirror of his and Seth's bathroom every morning before he showered had been a part of not realizing his body's shape had changed significantly over time, but looking into both Remus and Snape's eyes and seeing their shock at how he must look to them rather brought it to his attention. Shoving the thought aside, he took a breath and seated himself at the kitchen bar, tilting his head to the side unconsciously as he considered the parchment Snape now slid before him.

From what Harry could see, it was general information on all the subjects he was now free to take as a NEWT student, but not one of Hogwarts. As he considered the parchment, however, he heard Professor Snape sigh and harrumph before slapping a sealed envelope on top of it, this actually labeled with his name.

"Your OWL results, Mr. Potter -- Cohen," Professor Snape said in a stilted voice and Harry felt his breath hitch slightly in his chest even though he knew the results were essentially a mere gesture now.

Almost immediately, he felt both Ryan and Seth's bodies crowding in on either side of his and just out of his field of vision, Professor Snape jerked back, biting back a probable comment at the seeming interruption. Harry took a breath and slid a finger underneath the flap, noting it was unsealed. He pulled the parchment out, reading through the grading scale and then his course marks.

Off to his left, he heard Seth blurt out, "_Troll?_ One of the grades is freaking _Troll_? For real?"

This question was apparently directed to someone because Snape answered, "A common mark, Mr. P -- Cohen, as I am most unfortunate to witness firsthand. Your brother may have scraped by without one, it seems."

Harry merely rolled his eyes, thoroughly enjoying the fact that Snape had no grounds to discipline him for his obvious cheek, and read his grades aloud:

**ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS**

**_Pass Grades Fail Grades_**

**Outstanding (O) Poor (P)  
Exceeds Expectations (E) Dreadful (D)  
Acceptable (A) Troll (T)**

**_Harry James Potter has achieved:_**

**Astronomy A  
Care of Magical Creatures E  
Charms E  
Defense Against the Dark Arts O  
Divination P  
Herbology E  
History of Magic D  
Potions O  
Transfiguration E**

"You got a 'P' in Divination and a 'D' in History of Magic," Ryan pointed out and Harry shot him a scowl.

"As you probably saw in the Pensieve, I am not a Seer so that class was a no-go from the outset, not to mention I _passed out and had a false vision from Voldemort_ during that last exam, thank you very much, you arse," Harry sniped lightly, ignoring Ryan's subsequent chuckle.

Snape was staring at him now, his mouth twisting again.

"Your...guardians...do not mind your language?"

Seth gave Snape a throwaway sort of look, "Well, I've told my dad John Travolta was his bitch, so I'm going to go with 'no'. Nothing excessive, though. Male offspring of female dogs, untoward relationships with mothers, well, I think those are out. I could be wrong, though..."

Snape stared at Seth as though he'd grown about two more heads and Seth snapped his mouth shut, rolling his eyes. "You know, I thought godfathers were supposed to be more flexible than this -- or do I have that wrong? I mean, the Jewish sense of 'godparent' is more symbolic than -- "

Harry clapped a hand over Seth's mouth and placed his test results back on the bar in front of him, next reaching for the list of NEWT classes without relinquishing his hold over his brother's mouth.

Lupin chuckled in disbelief. "You've...gotten pretty good at that, Harry. I remember Lily was particularly skilled at shutting both Sirius and James' mouths."

Harry shrugged, still not letting Seth go. "Ryan doesn't talk much."

Lupin frowned in amusement at Ryan, who reluctantly grinned back.

"Does this happen a lot?"

Ryan grinned more widely and Lupin returned it, cautiously stepping up to stand beside Snape, leaning against the counter top. "Well, boys, we really ought to get down to business. Harry's...rather astonishing innovation regarding the Patronus Charm aside, we need to ascertain where you both are in terms of magical aptitude and learning, as well as how much information you've retained in your respective dealings with magic over the past several weeks and years, individually."

Seth sighed dramatically through Harry's hand and pulled it away, leaning forward on the bar to place his head in his hands, "So it's like the magical version of the SATs -- because that was just...just...awesome, really."

Harry shook his head, "Sandy says you and Ryan both did brilliantly at those, Seth."

Seth threw himself away from the bar and goggled at Harry, "THAT DOESN'T MEAN IT WAS FUN!" he yelled, flailing so that Snape groaned where Harry couldn't see. Harry turned and raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"Neither of you were nearly this irritating as infants," Snape complained in a closed tone.

Harry snorted, "And you weren't a great overgrown bat when you were one -- we haven't held it against you."

Lupin covered a laugh with a cough and Snape shot them both glares. Harry, much to his seemingly intense displeasure, remained distinctly unruffled. Sandy had been teaching him meditation techniques to use when he had his hydrotherapy sessions every day and it was getting easier to ignore everything that used to bother the hell out of him. Absently, he wondered if Luna might have already known them. That would make sense.

"Yes, well," Lupin began, gathering the attention again. "Harry, we've just reviewed your test results. Seth will take the OWLs whenever he reaches a sufficient knowledge of magical practice and theory. For now, Professor Snape and I will each ask you both a series of questions and ask you both to perform certain spells."

"You know, I'm thinking this will be decidedly lopsided," Seth noted, tapping his bottom lip with his finger and glaring at both Snape and Lupin. "You're both going to ask Harry questions from all over the map and try to stick me in what amounts to Magical Kindergarten. The whole point of this test is that you have no idea what I know and only a certain idea what Harry knows. I call 'bullcrap' and demand a fair trial."

Seth frowned, then, and walked over to nudge himself between Harry and Ryan, who were both grinning at him now. The professors were both quite pale, even for Snape, and Harry in particular was enjoying the sight.

"This isn't going to work," Remus said quietly after seeming to recover, running a hand through his hair. "Seth is right -- we'll be biased and unfair, assuming he knows less than Harry."

"He _do --_" Snape began to snap, but Lupin interrupted him calmly.

"We simply don't know that for certain. We should perform this differently. For now, we can stick to practical, since that can be done without much in the way of preparation. Afterward, perhaps we can set them each a separate assignment based on _those_ results, as well as one that might test their ability to work _together_, cooperating and the like. It seems as though they've been doing as much in our absence, at any rate."

At this, Lupin afforded both Seth and Harry proud smiles and turned to Ryan, "And hearing about _you_, Mr. Atwood, makes me wish you were my student, as well." Lupin shook his head, "Well, there's not really any help for that. I haven't lived in the Muggle world regularly since I was a small child and certainly not amongst many humans at all since I was bitten. I probably wouldn't be much use to you, any -- "

"Moony," Harry interrupted, giving Lupin a sad frown as he purposely used his former -- and, it seemed, again current -- tutor's nickname, "You're being incredibly unfair to yourself. You were the best Defense professor we had -- certainly better than Umbridge. D'you know what she tried to pass off as learning? She said 'as long as you've sufficiently learned the theory, the Ministry -- '"

And here, Harry paused momentarily to master the considerable effort to make a face or curse the legislative body in question. "' -- feels you should be able to pass your OWLs without difficulty' -- we weren't going to _perform_ spells or anything until the day we _sat the test_! That old toad was absolutely barmy!"

Lupin sighed and pushed his greying hair out of his face again, "Yes, I quite remember the temper Minerva McGonagall got in merely mentioning Dolores Umbridge." He shook his head again and tried to smile, but Harry met his eyes stonily.

"Sirius said she wrote up laws that made it nearly impossible for you to get a job anywhere, like you're contagious or something -- " and here he turned to Professor Snape, who frowned as though he'd swallowed something sour.

"And you certainly didn't help, telling everyone at Hogwarts Lupin's a werewolf just because that imbecile Fudge took away your Order of Merlin for 'catching' Sirius. No one's going around trying to ruin employment for you on account of your having once been a Death Eater -- think if everyone were so petty, Professor."

Snape narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. Harry gave his head a frustrated shake and tried to let it go. "My _point_ is that none of us knows one another's abilities or faults so it'd be nice to leave them at the door -- Professor, you and Remus are heading back into a war. Even if I never go back to England, you two will have to depend on one another at some point. Revenge is pointless now, just like chasing ghosts of people who died happily."

Lupin was watching Harry sadly, now, Snape had a decidedly less antagonistic expression on his face.

Harry glanced at the ceiling, seemingly praying momentarily for patience, before sticking his hand out at Snape, "Harry Cohen, nice to meet you, sir."

Snape stared, gobsmacked, at Harry, who stared back with the blank interest of someone meeting an amiable stranger. "Oh, give over, will you, _Potter_ -- as if five years of you crossing lines -- "

"Five years of you treating Harry as though he were James over again," Lupin said, with force in his voice that Harry had never yet heard. "Five years of you docking points at your whim and treating anyone not a Slytherin, _and especially Harry_ as though worthless."

"As if -- "

"You're an adult, Severus," Lupin said, his voice remaining steely. "Harry is trying to act as one -- has, actually, for quite some time -- and it would do everyone good to follow as he says. He's not wrong in that we need to trust one another. And there are no more House rivalries, no more yearly delineations in this home. Seth and Harry -- and Ryan, as well, are determined to be on equal footing. It would be spitting in their faces to deny them the opportunity."

Snape stared at Harry's hand for several moments before slowing reaching out and taking hold of it as though physically resisting gripping it as hard as he could. "Professor Severus Snape, Potions. N-n -- " Snape paused and exhaled audibly. "Salutations."

Harry mentally rolled his eyes and turned to Lupin, who was beaming at him with pride. "Harry Cohen, nice to meet you, sir."

Lupin let out a little laugh, "So good to meet you, as well, _Harry_ Cohen! I daresay I'll enjoy teaching you."

Lupin winked and turned to Seth, who was smirking disbelievingly at Harry, Snape, and Lupin, all. "Seth Cohen, and I can't think of anything witty at the moment so you'll have to give me a minute."

Lupin gave a short laugh and shook his own head, "Oh, please, _Seth_ Cohen -- take your time."

Seth raised his hands and backed away, gesturing toward Ryan, Who gave him a look that clearly asked what the hell he thought he was doing. "Ryan Atwood, um -- not nearly as verbose as these two."

Lupin grinned toothily, then, and shook Ryan's hand. "If you need anything, as well, Mr. Atwood, I would be absolutely delighted to help in any way I can."

Ryan nodded, biting his lip and smiling. "Thanks."

_...Detox just to retox and I'll promise you anything for another shot at life..._

It probably took far more time than it otherwise would have, but Harry and Seth were each tested on the same spells, theories, and concepts while Ryan looked on in contemplation. After four hours of exhaustive halting of near-bickering, cutting short arguments and sniping, and general unpleasantness mingled with absurd humor, it was determined that it wouldn't make any sense to attempt to place Seth in any of the yearly levels as his abilities in most disciplines already exceeded the beginning three years of curriculum.

By the end of the evening, and Sandy and Kirsten's returns from their various outings and job-related duties, it was found that Harry and Seth, as well as Ryan, seemed to mirror one another in their respective situations. Harry's and Ryan's meetings with Dr. Kim had borne out various bypasses of grade levels and it seemed the same held true for Seth in the magical sense.

As it was so late, Kirsten (who had returned with Madam Pomfrey, having stopped daily to check on Dudley's convalescence at Harry's behest) invited the Mediwitch, Snape, and Lupin all to partake in dinner, which turned out to be a mix of Japanese and Chinese food -- Sandy having had ideas along the same lines and deciding to combine the two -- and both Professors Snape and Lupin were witness to what had become a regular part of Ryan and Harry's lives: _Shabbat_ dinner, Harry having been very enthusiastic in learning about the religion his brother had grown up in and that which, according to both Lupin and Snape, their birth mother had, as well.

It came to a surprise to Harry to see that Snape knew what to do during certain parts of the rituals and even consented to wearing a yarmulke, something that had Harry feeling hard-pressed not to stare in astonishment.

By the time Lupin and Snape each left, their yarmulkes on the side table by the door, Harry was pleasantly full of _challah_ and what he'd since learned was _hirame_, _edamame_, and a number of other Japanese words for different sorts of finned fish. He thought he could get used to using _hashi_ to eat food and, an interesting thought -- even eating at the same table as Snape could be bearable under the right circumstances.

***

The next morning, Seth awoke to Harry standing gingerly on his bed to roll up the Quidditch poster he'd removed from over his bed. The wall was now barren once more but that wasn't on Seth's mind.

He'd resolved, after pretty much prying the story out of Harry late two weeks before that he wouldn't voluntarily leave the sides of either of his brothers for the remainder of the summer if it could be at all helped.

"If you're going to be attracting all this cool trouble, then I want to be there to see it firsthand, man."

Harry had given Seth a slightly dirty look, but understood his brother hadn't meant anything by it the way he knew Draco Malfoy would have, or even Ron at his nastiest.

"Talking of trouble," Harry had returned with a piercing look in Seth's eyes. "This _Luke_ you and Ryan keep mentioning -- " he'd raised an eyebrow in Seth's direction from his position in bed across their darkened bedroom. "I haven't seen him at all -- you and Ryan made him sound like a poltergeist -- always there, causing trouble if he feels like it. Same being for Marissa's mum."

Seth winced then and fell back against his pillows, groaning audibly, "Dude -- you've just totally jinxed us -- and _not_ in the magical sense! The unlucky sense!"

Harry had shrugged, not seeing why Seth was so concerned, "We're staying inside tomorrow, Seth," he pointed out, unable to resist a confused frown. "Except for my time in the pool."

Seth scoffed in response, "Oh, like that'd stop a really determined bad time."

Seth had turned off the remaining lamp then and presumably gone to sleep. Harry had instead buried himself underneath the covers of his own bed and used wandlight to finish marking off the courses he was electing to take when he started at the Harbor School with Ryan and Seth in the fall. He wondered if the slight branded look of his wand indenting the paper would be noticed.

Shaking away the nagging thought, he smiled up at the document before him, grinning at the choices he'd made, several of which included classes with Seth. With Dr. Kim's urging, he would be scheduling certain classes for certain days, unlike most of his schoolmates who had more concrete course loads. Harry had agreed readily, remembering the severe strain Hermione had put upon herself attempting to take too many classes on too many days without enough rest in between to recuperate.

He knew that Sandy and Kirsten would readily intervene if they thought he was piling too much upon himself -- he certainly wouldn't have the luxury of a secret binding contract with anyone as Hermione had with Professor McGonagall -- and they'd personally ask Dr. Kim to lighten his course load if they thought he was overburdened. Harry wasn't sure what to think of the fact that his adoptive parents would take it upon themselves to circumvent his choices in such a way, but he noticed that he appreciated that they would care so much in that regard. He couldn't imagine the Dursleys ever taking the time to appeal anything he'd taken at Hogwarts if he'd needed to change anything. He couldn't picture them even caring.

**Calculus - Advanced Placement  
English - Advanced Placement  
History - Advanced Placement  
Latin - Level 4 **(five years at Hogwarts had served him better than he'd thought)  
**Physics - Advanced Placement  
Biology - General  
Veterinary Sciences - General  
Criminology - Advanced Placement**

Harry had the notion that he would either add or detract from his schedule in the coming years depending on his performances in his classes and whether he enjoyed them as much as he thought he might.

With that in mind, Harry put out his wandlight and pulled the covers down, carefully placing his course schedule on his nightstand in front of the multi-level CD tower Seth had surprised him with.

Harry had blushed furiously, speechless and embarrassed that he hadn't been able to return the favor of fourteen years worth of mutual birthday presents, but Seth had clamped both hands on Harry's shoulders and leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. His brother spoke quietly and Harry could hear faint tears in his voice.

"I've had people who've loved me my whole life -- you...just didn't. Don't even think of repaying me."

Seth had hugged him, then, and Harry found himself not freezing up and simply accepting the hug for the first time in his life. Hermione hugged him, often, but it wasn't the same as being hugged by family, by someone who had a connection with you that didn't tend to idle during a summer's holiday. Ryan and Seth teased him, too, like Ron did, but it wasn't the same as knowing that one mistaken idea taking a stranglehold on Ron would lead to the short-tempered redhead's rejection in tide with the rest of the school. It had hurt him deeply to know that Ron thought their friendship had meant so little to him that he'd purposely enter a forbidden contest just to grab more unwanted glory.

Harry had forgiven Ron his idiotic notion, but it had and still bothered him deeply that after three and a half years of being best friends, Ron hadn't seemed to glean a single notion of Harry's intense aversion to fame or popularity. Even now, the thought made him grit his teeth in anger.

Pushing the thought out of his head, Harry thought of his other friends, Luna -- seemingly the sole inhabitant of a whole universe (well, not sole if her father counted, as well), a world behind the world, and completely unconcerned with even the most perfunctory ideas of reality. Her fluidity of mind had appealed to him before he'd ever known it, known her and seen how brave and how brilliant she truly was. Neville was another friend he'd miss dearly -- brave in all the ways that truly counted, understated in his own abilities only to shine when the opportunity practically smote him over the head.

He wondered what all their responses to his letters would be but found that he didn't thirst for them as he had in the past. He had his own life here, he was beginning to realize -- it was time to make the most of this sudden freedom.

Harry was suddenly beset by a rather fiendish idea, but as quickly as it had come, he banished it in irritation. Even though he was no longer bedridden, Madam Pomfrey and Dr. Garrison had each expressly forbidden him from rough-housing or anything that might lead to it for the remaining weeks of the summer.

According to Seth and Ryan, Luke liked to push people around even more than Dudley had. Just his luck, really.

Fighting back a frown, Harry showered and dressed, wondering what sort of karma he'd built up that might make Seth's idea of a jinx come true and hoping it didn't.

_Fell out of bed, butterfly bandage, but don't worry -- you'll never remember, your head is far too blurry..._

...TBC...


	14. That's Very Interesting

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer:** Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea.  
Lyrics are from various sources, usually music I'm listening to while writing. In this case, it was 'America's Suitehearts' by Fall Out Boy, from 'Folie à Deux', once more. That or '(Coffee's for Closers)', I can't figure it out.

**Summary:** He wasn't a legal part of any wizarding society anymore and Caleb wouldn't know what the hell he was talking about anyway.

**Fandoms:** AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One.

**Timeline:** The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I should specify that in order for the two lines to sync up, I moved the start of 'The O.C.' back to the beginning of the summer as opposed to near the end.

**Pairings:** You know, given plot developments, this may turn into a Gen!Harry fic for now. I'll just go with it.

**Notes:** You know, I despise cliffhangers (and short chapters, as a result), but I can understand the appeal, damn it.

**Warnings:** Possible spoilers for the first season of 'The OC' and both Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows, but since this completely departs from canon, I don't believe it's anything earth-shattering.

Part XIV: That's Very Interesting Considering Nobody Invited You.

_...We will never believe again...Preach electric to a microphone stand..._

It turned out that Seth was mostly wrong about drama unfolding at Harry's words -- at least where Luke or Julie Cooper were concerned. Apparently, it transpired that Luke's parents had taken him on a trip to Greece or somewhere very far away that Seth didn't care to elaborate on, so intent was he on enjoying the news in general.

Things were less complicated in the matter of Marissa and Summer saying 'hello' rather like the girls at Hogwarts had in the run-up to Yule Ball. It was odd, really, the attention they tried to extract from both he and Ryan, but Harry couldn't find it in himself to do more than return the gesture, clutching the post to himself this particular morning and near-about scuttling back to the house. It was a lucky thing, he believed, that his new sandals included backs because he was fairly certain he would have tripped out of them in his haste.

It was bad enough that he could always hear them giggling as he retreated in absolute horror.

It wasn't until that evening, however, that a sort of disaster struck in the form of an older man with very short-shorn hair strolling up the patio while Harry sat in the pool meditating. He was so intent on chanting his particular mantra (professional Quidditch teams of the Europe and Asia, in this case) that he didn't realize Caleb Nicholl had gotten so close until the man's rather loud call got his abrupt attention.

Harry yelped and fell forward, sinking beneath the water before bursting back out with a very loud snort and tried desperately to cough up the water he'd swallowed. Caleb watched this boy Kiki had described so effusively try to bring himself back to his senses and sighed, reaching out and managing to haul the boy back onto the pool step without getting too wet.

"So you're the 'Harry' Kiki keeps going on and on about -- she said you had black hair and glasses."

Harry spluttered a bit more and Caleb whacked him on the back, bringing up a bit more water, and Harry attempted to croak a response as he heard Sandy and Kirsten rushing outside, followed by Seth and Ryan, all of whom had alarmed expressions on their faces.

"Dad -- you could have made enough noise to let Harry know you were there!" Kirsten protested, frowning as she watched Sandy, Seth, and Ryan haul Harry the rest of the way out of the pool and settle him on a lawn chair.

"You alright?" Sandy asked, his brow furrowed in that way which was becoming very familiar.

Harry nodded shakily, bringing his hands up and running them both through his hair, flinging water everywhere. Sandy handed him his towel and Harry vomited a bit more water into it.

"I'm okay," he said in a congested voice and Kirsten glared at her father who threw up his hands.

"I didn't know he was going to half-drown, Kiki -- "

"Don't call me 'Kiki'," she interjected automatically. "If he gets pneumonia, it's on your head."

"Why would he get pneumonia, Kirsten, it's only a bit of pool water!" Caleb said disbelievingly, throwing Harry an appraising look. "And it's _summer_, in case you've forgotten -- "

"I haven't forgotten, Dad -- it's not my business to tell. Just, please, let him know you're coming from now on?"

Caleb frowned, clearly confused, but shook his head and threw up his own hands. "Fine, fine, I'll stomp as hard as I can."

"Thank you," Kirsten said sweetly, exhaling forcefully before turning a worried eye back on a still slightly damp Harry. "Harry, are you -- "

"I'm fine. I wish I'd eaten gillyweed before that, but I'm fine."

Harry seemed to realize he'd said something inappropriate because he nearly clapped a hand over his mouth, but decided to shake it off. He wasn't a legal part of any wizarding society anymore and Caleb wouldn't know what the hell he was talking about anyway.

Sighing heavily and knocking his head to each side to shake the water from his ears, Harry removed the goggles he was glad he'd been wearing and tried to smile, "Harry...Cohen. Nice to meet you."

Caleb gave a short laugh and took Harry's hand, shaking it firmly, "Caleb Nicholl -- I suppose I'd be your new grandfather, if Kiki -- "

Kirsten winced and rolled her eyes behind his back. "And Sandy have adopted you already. So you were in England, it seems."

Harry nodded, honestly wondering why on earth that was such a novelty to everyone. "I lived in Surrey until a few weeks ago. My -- my and Seth's cousin Dudley and our uncle have been moved here, but I'm a Cohen now. I just thought I'd tell you because you might see Dudley around. Our Uncle Vernon's...indefinitely indisposed, though."

He shrugged and if Caleb found that odd, he didn't let on as much. "Well, the important thing, I suppose, is that Kiki and Sandy finally found you."

Harry had to force his smile not to grow very far, but the look on his adoptive mother's face every time Caleb called her that was getting too funny for words. "Um...sir, I'm fairly certain if you keep calling her that, you might be ceding control of your company a bit sooner than you expected."

Harry's grin was accompanied by Sandy's laughs as well as Seth and Ryan's muffled snickers. Caleb smiled proudly and reached back to grab Kirsten in a tight one-armed hug, which only made the boys and Sandy laugh even harder as her face contorted in outright mortification.

"What's so funny?" Caleb asked, eyeing them all beadily. He paused on Ryan, who immediately adopted a blank expression and Harry found himself following suit without thinking. Seth took a breath, but pulled himself together, as well. Sandy was the only one who continued to grin, though now rather obnoxiously.

"Dad, I hate that nickname," Kirsten complained flatly, taking hold of his shoulders and forcing him to face her again. "You _know_ I -- " Kirsten's eyes widened then as she saw something overhead and everyone's heads followed in due course.

Harry immediately recognized the shape of multiple owls winging their way through darkness and felt the blood drain from his face. He turned as quickly as he could, swore under his breath, hurrying forward to try to intercept them, though it was obvious he wouldn't be able to explain his post receipt away at this juncture.

_Fuck,_ he thought resignedly, allowing Hedwig to alight on his shoulder and relieving the other owls of their considerable-seeming burdens. Sandy, Seth, and Ryan both quickly joined him, each duly pretending the enchanted packages were all much heavier than they actually were. Carrying them as 'quickly' as they could, the four deposited them all in Seth and Harry's room before rejoining Kirsten and Caleb, who had been moved to the living room and plied with something alcoholic.

The hired post owls left the way they'd come, but Hedwig took the unfortunate opportunity to nip outside to return with something dead, which she carried back to her owners' bedroom in full view of a completely baffled Caleb.

Harry sank onto the couch beside his twin, for the first time each of them fidgeting in equal measure.

_Bollocks,_ Harry thought now, unable to come up with much else. For once in their acquaintance, Seth was as quiet as either he or Ryan.

This was definitely not a good thing, in any sense of the word.

"So, Granddad," Seth started in a falsely cheerful tone. "Did I ever have a chance to tell you Harry and I are wizards?"

_...I can't explain a thing...I want everything to change and stay the same on top..._

...TBC...


	15. Precisely Those Things that Are Worst

**Speculum Fragilis**  
_By Angelfirenze_

**Disclaimer:** Schwartz and Rowling are responsible for this amalgam. I just had the idea. Paraquote from episode 1.02 'The R. Kelly Trial' from The Boondocks, which is the property of Aaron McGruder and Sony Pictures, as far as I know. Lyrics are from various sources, usually music I'm listening to while writing. I didn't actually use any for this chapter, even though I'm currently listening to at least twenty bands on an Alternative Press playlist I created quite a while ago. *shrugs*

**Summary:** "You've got rather a lot of explaining left to do, wouldn't you say?"

**Fandoms:** AU post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix/The O.C., Season One. Though I've been reading the Inheritance Cycle by Christopher Paolini and have been thinking feverishly about dragons as a result. I can't let this turn into a crossover-palooza, because that way lies madness, but the books definitely give me ideas for later stories. *nods*

**Timeline:** The O.C. S1, specifically after 'The Rescue'. Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I should specify that in order for the two lines to sync up, I moved the start of 'The O.C.' back to the beginning of the summer as opposed to near the end.

**Pairings:** You know, given plot developments, this may turn into a Gen!Harry fic for now. I'll just go with it.

**Notes:** Bah, this chapter was rather hard to write.

**Warnings:** Possible spoilers for the first season of 'The OC' and both Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows, but since this completely departs from canon, I don't believe it's anything earth-shattering. I'm trying not to go along with loads of things that happened during 'The OC, season one' -- a whole new plot. *nods*

Part XV: Precisely Those Things that Are Worst for Them...

"Wizards." Caleb was looking back and forth between Harry and Seth now, his eyes narrowed slightly before he glanced yet again at Ryan, Kirsten, and then Sandy, the latter of whom tried to keep his face as blank as possible.

Things had been made even more awkward by Hedwig alighting on Harry's shoulder and nipping his ear affectionately. Trying not to think about how odd he might look, Harry coaxed her onto his arm so that he could stroke her feathers and smile at her. He tried to give her a look that said as clearly as he could that he missed her and thanked her for delivering his post over a distance far longer than he'd ever asked of her before. She seemed to have understood because she took off and flew back into his and Seth's bedroom, the light from the living room playing off her feathers and making her seem like she was glowing.

Or Harry had missed her more than he thought, probably both.

"Yes, Granddad," Seth said as calmly as possible yet again. "We were born that way. Our biological parents were a witch and wizard, as well. We can both do magic, though Harry's better than I am at the moment."

Caleb sighed, still seemingly unwilling to admit this wasn't a joke. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say to this."

Harry sighed in return and bit his lip. He noticed his stomach was beginning to hurt. "To be honest, sir, you were never supposed to find out. If I was still under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Magic, I'd've been brought up for violating the International Statute of Secrecy. As it is, I think this might fall under the header of 'familial disclosure'. Besides, wizards have been working feverishly to convince Muggles -- er, non-magical people are called 'Muggles' -- that wizards don't exist for centuries."

Harry exhaled slowly, again, and looked at his balled fists where they lay on his knees. "I was expecting some post and it happened to arrive while you were here. I was ordering books from several stores in the magical shopping center where Seth and I bought our schoolbooks and things, our wands and stuff. Wizards use owls to send mail and I have Hedwig. She's been my post owl since I was eleven and she's Seth's now, too. I expect she also has the replies to letters I sent friends of mine from my old school. It'd be why she had to take such a long trip back to England."

Caleb turned to look at Ryan, who cringed and shook his head. "I'm not a wizard. They call us 'Muggles', apparently. I'm a Muggle."

Caleb ran a hand over his head and narrowed his eyes at two of his grandsons. "I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to think of all this."

Harry frowned slightly, at a loss for what to say. All he could do was nod.

"Do any of your friends know about this?"

Harry laughed aloud, as did Seth, and they grinned at one another. "Um, Granddad," Seth said, holding back a smile. "I'm fairly certain that if this town had any idea we were wizards, they'd either demand we teach them how, which is impossible, or they'd burn us at the stake -- you never know with these yuppie types. Also, Harry and I would each be prosecuted for violating the International Statute of Secrecy and from what I heard about the hassle the last time Harry had to go through it, it's just not worth my time."

Caleb's eyes widened and turned to face Harry fully, "You were prosecuted for..."

Harry scowled at the memory, frowning apologetically as he stood up and removed his sandals once again before sitting back down on the beach towel draped beneath him on the couch. "Last year, I almost got grassed up -- er, well, in the magical world, I wouldn't have been sent to prison -- sorry -- but I would have had my wand snapped in half. Anyway, I got in massive trouble for protecting our cousin."

Harry ran his hands through his wet hair, gritting his teeth to stop himself rambling, "Not that my Patronus was able to keep Dudley from harm..." Harry almost began to slip away in thought, but felt Kirsten's hand alight upon his shoulder and looked up at her.

"You've got rather a lot of explaining left to do, wouldn't you say?"

Harry bit his lip, nodding. "Yeah, sorry -- there've been complications since then. Er, since we're telling you all this, you'll probably find them out. But the point is, what I did shouldn't have been a problem. I don't want any parades but I didn't deserve to be sent up in front of the High Court for something perfectly reasonable."

Harry stood, wordlessly excused himself for a moment, and dashed into his and Seth's room to throw on a t-shirt. Willing himself to tamp down and ignore the glee he felt at seeing the pile of letters on top of his packages, Harry hurried back into the living room and sat again on his towel.

"This school you attended in England -- were there other...wizards and..." Caleb's eyes widened slightly. "Witches there?"

"Yes, sir. It's called the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Seth would have gone there, too, if we'd grown up together. The most I could tell you about it is that it's a secondary school in Scotland and students who don't transfer in or out attend from the ages of eleven to seventeen or eighteen, depending on when they were born. I...thought I'd spend the whole seven years there, but the wizarding world isn't..."

Harry sighed and his shoulders sank as he lifted his eyes to look at his new grandfather, "The wizarding world simply isn't flexible or abiding in any real way. I wonder how many Muggle-born witches and wizards leave after they graduate and find a world that, by and large, thinks they and their parents are, at best, pitiable and, at worst, less useful than livestock. It's demeaning and counter-productive. It's stupid, unfounded, and ill-conceived.

"Pureblooded wizards are either patronizing and ignorant or outright dismissive and I don't want to be a part of that world right now, if ever again -- not if I don't know myself as well as I'd like. It almost feels as if they're ready and waiting to shut off any objective thinking and all they need is the go-ahead -- and I don't want to make it seem like there aren't tolerant or progressive people in the Wizarding world, but they're few and far between and the overwhelming majority simply operate in this weird limbo where it's perfectly fine not to know things."

Caleb watched Harry's hands wringing themselves without his knowledge and nodded toward them, causing him to start slightly and blush as he stopped. He tried to smile comfortingly, "You've given this a lot of thought."

Harry laughed bitterly, "I've had to, sir. I've been their scapegoat and their savior off and on for the past fourteen years. It gets old, to say the least." Harry looked up at the ceiling and leaned back on the couch, "The Harbor School might be filled with self-involved t -- " Harry grimaced and stopped himself from saying 'tits' like he really wanted. "Toadies, but at least none of them would try to kill me, to my knowledge. Try to get me to try illicit substances, possibly, but I can always just say no."

Seth and Ryan both snorted, Kirsten giggled, Caleb and Sandy chuckled.

Harry gazed cluelessly around at them, "I...said something funny."

"'Just Say No' is a very long-running anti-drug campaign," Caleb affirmed, rolling his eyes. "One I don't imagine they had in England."

Harry shook his head, now perplexed. "So...I just mentioned something you've all been seeing for ages?"

"Yep," Seth snickered, leaning back against the side of the couch where Caleb sat and looking up at his grandfather with a falsely mollifying look. "Granddad, have you given any money to the War on Drugs?"

Caleb snorted, "I make it a rule not to sink funds into futile endeavors."

Sandy coughed falsely and loudly and Kirsten elbowed him in the stomach. Caleb shot Sandy a malevolent glare but otherwise didn't respond.

"Well," he said, getting to his feet again. "I'll..._have_ to give this a lot of thought, but you have my word I won't tell anyone. I'd hardly like to see any of my grandchildren in jail on fallacious charges."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, standing as well and shaking Caleb's hand. "It was nice to meet you. I'm...not entirely sure what I should call you..."

"Caleb or 'Granddad', as Seth insists, is fine. The same goes for you, Ryan," Caleb nodded in Ryan's direction and received yet another in return. "I'll definitely be back tomorrow, though I'd like to talk to Kiki -- "

Kirsten managed to hold back a groan, but still flicked a cackling Sandy's nearby hand, causing him to flinch as she began to walk away toward the kitchen. "Dad. Please. Some time in the next century. Stop?"

"No," Caleb responded concisely. "I love you."

Harry felt his cheeks puff out with the effort of holding in his laughter and made a concerted effort not to look at either his brothers or his father as he retreated to his and Seth's bedroom, followed by all of them.

Seth flopped down on Harry's bed and Ryan seated himself in Seth's desk chair as Harry picked up the stack of letters first and tapped them with his wand, breaking their Sellotaped seals.

He read them all while pointedly ignoring the stares of anticipation from everyone else.

"Erm, well, from the looks of it, no one can come right away because they're rather tied up in things, but they're all happy for me -- um, Hermione and Ron are downright chuffed -- hated my uncle, imagine that...they'll try to write me again soon -- Hermione'll email me -- she doesn't use hers, really, but she'll make it a habit for me."

Harry gave the letters a smile and tucked them away in his desk. "Last year, that news would have crushed me -- and I certainly wouldn't have had anyone to share it with."

He shook his head, "But this year is brilliant beyond compare so I don't have to dwell on the disappointment."

Sandy and Seth gave Harry beaming smiles while Ryan nodded in agreement and indicated the crates still waiting to be opened. "What's all this?"

"Books I ordered from Diagon and Knockturn Alleys," Harry said with a shrug. "I need information and with the way everyone assumes that just because you have it, it'll turn you Dark there was no way I could ask anyone for what I needed to know. They'd try to talk me out of it, saying I'm too young to know anything about it, but that's my -- and yours, Sandy, and Kirsten's decision to make."

Harry sighed, trying to get his thoughts to make sense. "The only things I've ever heard about our parents were that they were the nicest people who ever lived, but I know perfectly well from first-hand observation that James Potter was not a nice person, at least for most of his Hogwarts career. He was a bullying, entitled git who made Snape's life absolute hell. Sirius, too. They delighted in his pain and it was disgusting. Snape drove my mother away, which is his fault, but nothing he did excuses what he went through -- if anything, it definitely made it worse.

"I've bought as many books on James Potter and Lily Evans as I could find, everything I could gather on anything to do with magic and souls, as well. I need to know what Voldemort was trying to do the night he tried to kill Seth and I. I mean, I was his main target but there was no way he would have left Seth alive."

Harry pointed to his scar. "I've been told this is an unusual mark, even for a magical wound. I have dreams and flashes of Voldemort's feelings. I'm a Parselmouth, as you saw in the Pensieve. I need to know why if I'm ever going to come to terms with any of it. I can't get a grip on what I don't know. Assumptions simply aren't good enough."

Sandy walked up and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze. "Do your reading, write down whatever you want to talk to us about. Write questions for all of us -- there's no reason this can't be a group effort."

Harry nodded in acquiescence, comforted that his decisions weren't dismissed out of hand as he knew they would have been if he'd discussed them with anyone else.

Harry pulled his wand out of the pocket of his swim trunks and pointed it at the first crate. Using a nonverbal _Diffindo_, he split the wooden beams that encased his books and began to pass the books around to the others.

"As much as I'd like to, I can't read all this by myself or even understand it all yet. Besides, every time I think of plowing ahead with a huge pile of books, I keep thinking of what Hermione did to herself our third year. She was miserable with so much time on her hands -- it still wasn't enough for what she was trying to accomplish. I don't want to make that mistake, too. That and she'd probably scold me for overtaxing myself. Hypocrisy aside, of course."

He began to pass the books around one at a time until everyone had a reasonable pile before sighing and stretching, a yawn being pulled out of him before he could stop it.

Sandy lifted an eyebrow at Harry and he nodded in reluctant agreement. His post wasn't going anywhere now that it was here and he could, should start reading in the morning. He didn't bother worrying about them all jumping ahead and leaving him behind. Besides, a lot of it was simply biographical accounts of his and Seth's birth family and, hopefully, wouldn't be that difficult to piece together.

He almost scoffed at the idea, but stopped himself, knowing that assumptions would just have him borrowing trouble.

When Ryan and Sandy left, Harry proceeded to change into his pajamas and climb into bed. He intended to start reading just a little, but was asleep before he'd turned the first page.

***

Seth stretched and let his feet hit the floor, immediately bumping into one of the discarded envelopes Harry probably left after waking earlier in the morning. His brother was currently in the shower and Seth waited, flopping back on his bed and staring around the room.

_What to do? What to do?_

Seth sighed and got up, puttering around in the sunlight when his eyes alighted upon Harry's desk. Seth scoffed slightly at his brother's atrocious HP -- _maybe it's his initials that drew him over to the Dark Side..._ computer but hesitated when his eyes landed on Harry's open notebook -- one filled with what he now knew to be parchment, one he'd most likely gotten while attending Hogwarts.

Harry had used a quill and old-fashioned ink to write

**Harry Cohen  
Harry Cohen  
Harry James Potter  
Harry Evans  
Harry Cohen  
Harry Cohen  
Lily Evans  
James Potter  
Sandford Cohen  
Kirsten Nicholl  
Harry Potter  
Harry Potter  
Harry Cohen**...

The tiers of handwriting stretched down for three straight pages. Seth wondered if Harry had slept much at all over the past few days. Sighing inwardly, Seth shook his head and tried to focus on something else, but couldn't think of anything else.

It was difficult, trying not to think of the what-ifs, how-comes, the whys and everything else that had come roaring into his life over the past few weeks. It was hard to reconcile the memories of his own boring, spoiled life here in Newport with Harry's fight just to exist under the thumb of that asshole two streets away, say nothing of any of the random death threats he'd gotten since -- ever.

It disgusted Seth, the differences between them. He wondered how Harry handled all of it.

The worst thing he'd had to deal with was idiots peeing in his shoes and tipping his books and lunch tray. Little indignities, sure -- but no one had tried to kill him.

Not yet anyway.

Seth blew out a breath and decided to postpone his shower until after breakfast. There wasn't much to do today anyway.

***

Caleb flipped open the newspaper the owl dropped off and stared at the moving pictures, marveling that an entire world existed that most people knew nothing about. More than one, really. He thought he'd take the boys to breakfast tomorrow -- get to know Ryan and Harry, catch up with Seth. He only had so much time, after all.

...TBC...


End file.
